


Heart of Stone

by cazrhys



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Self-Indulgent, War, but not really, carmen: i don't love lucien, carmen: i would kill everyone in prythian for you :)), fast burn, lucien: breathes, set during acowar, they're both chill if they end up going separate ways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:54:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26298241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazrhys/pseuds/cazrhys
Summary: Despite knowing her family's history, Carmen still isn't prepared for when a long-forgotten enemy comes back for revenge, opening a portal to another realm and sending her inside, thinking she'd die. If one thing is for certain, Carmen is Klaus' daughter and she intends on acting like it.
Relationships: Lucien Vanserra / Original Character, Very Very Minor Hayley Marshall / Original Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. I. Legend In The Making

Carmen's biggest fear is being ordinary. Ridiculous, she knows. She's a tribrid, one of the two of her kind. But that doesn't make her anything but better than average. If she could describe it, it would be like saying that she's chocolate pancakes compared to normal pancakes. Hope would be blueberry.

That's the thing: Carmen doesn't want to be compared to fucking pancakes. She wants to be put down in history and not just as Klaus' daughter. She doesn't want to be forgotten or labeled next to Hope. When someone gets their shit together and details all the supernatural shit that had been going on for the last thousand years, Carmen wants her own chapter. 

She can practically see it: _CARMEN MIKAELSON. THE GREAT TRIBRID_. Hope would undoubtedly come after her, destined for... something. Sometimes, Carmen can't decide who takes after their father more. Hope is terrified of it. She's had it drilled in her mind since she was a wee little tot that the last thing she'd ever want for herself is to become like _him._ Carmen, however, doesn't share those same sentiments. Like, yes, Klaus Mikaelson is a prick who probably should die a painful death but he is so much more than that. 

"What are you doing?" Hope asks, walking into her room. Carmen curled her fingers, the flower petals wilting and turning from a too-bright shade of blue to an ashy grey. Carmen takes out her earbud pulling herself up. "I don't know," She murmurs. "Do you mean 'what are you doing' like with my life or 'what are you doing' as in magic? Because I can't answer the former," 

She was immortal; she'd live until some pour sap managed to get a white oak stake into her chest or until the world burned to the ground, leaving nothing behind. Hope sits on her bed, curling her feet under her. "When is Lilah coming down?" Carmen says, deciding that she wasn't going to muse Hope's future talks. 

Klaus nor Ophelia pressured her about going to college. Once again: Immortal! It was everyone else, precisely the people who she'd gone to school with. Maybe she should've gone to the Salvatore School but when she was twelve, she decided she liked New Orleans more than Mystic Falls. Respecting her wishes, her parents let her transfer. Now, they were getting into their colleges of choice, leaving with their whole lives ahead of her. 

Maybe immortality meant being alone. That was why Klaus had daggered his siblings, wasn't it? He thought that keeping them close but in a comatose state was better than knowing they hadn't wanted to be with him. 

Hope hums, "Next week," They were throwing a huge graduation party for the two of them, with Hope's girlfriend coming down to New Orleans. Carmen hadn't had the chance to grill them, ensure that she had nothing but the best intentions with her sister. The last time she'd seen Lilah Wells, the girl was thirteen and she'd just discovered she was a witch. Hope took her under her wing, showing her the ropes. Knowing the questions they'd be asked had brought Carmen a wicked source of satisfaction. 

"Promise you won't be all weird? Lilah's terrified of you because Lizzie told her stories of how terrible you were. She said you eat _bunnies_ ," Hope says, fingers playing with the ends of her red hair. The red hair she'd gotten from her mother, Hayley. Carmen doesn't think she looks like her own mother, nearly hitting the age she was when she became immortal. 

Carmen laughs at this. "I don't eat bunnies," Her lips quirk into a smirk. "Just hearts," 

Hope's mouth gapes, picking up the nearest pillow that changed colors when you swiped your hand across the top and hits her in the head, some of her brown hair clinging to her lipgloss. She cringes as she pulls it away. Carmen would hit her back if she was sure that her strength wouldn't, you know, kill her. 

"You know what? You're a terrible person, abusing your little sister like this. I don't know how you've managed to get a nice girl like Lilah to date you when I can't get one," Carmen huffs. She doesn't mean it, not since she thinks Hope is the best supernatural person she knows. The other role goes to a human named Harley, who was sunshine in human form. How Harley managed to be so chipper at the crack of dawn, Carmen doesn't know and she doesn't think she wants to learn. 

A thought pops into her head, "How _did_ it happen, anyway? You said you'd tell me the next time we saw each other but then the _Kolvina_ incident happened," Kol had accidentally exposed this world to one of Davina's friends, Everest, and she was unable to be compelled, leading them on a wild goose chase to figure out what it was. Carmen had gone along with them and spoiler: they hadn't managed to find out what the hell was going on with the ginger. Don't tell Uncle Kol she thinks this but she kinda thinks that Davina and Everest are cute together? 

Hope bites her lip and despite Carmen and Hope spending the last few years apart, Carmen can read her like the back of her hand. They talked and sent letters every day. She had been able to tell when something was bothering her sister based on the wording she used in her letters. How precise her handwriting was — or how _sloppy_ meant she was aggravated or annoyed. If the edges were crinkled, Hope was debating throwing away the paper. 

"I'm not going to judge you, you know," Carmen hurriedly says. "Like, at first I thought it was odd simply because it was unexpected. The last thing I remember is you saying you were dating Landon Kirby and then you were dating her and I didn't even know you liked girls? For a moment I thought it was a Everest-Davina thing." Carmen stumbles out, quickly thinking of their parents who held the award for the all-time most complicated relationship and she cannot even begin to describe it. 

Hope silences her with a hand movement, brushing her off before Carmen went into an hour-long speech about how Hope can date whoever and blah, blah, blah. She's already heard it from each family member upon announcing it. 

"Well, Lilah and I had crushes on each other but then she began dating Josie and Landon and I began dating. Then, Josie left for London and an incident happened—" Hope breaks off, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't know. It just happened." 

Carmen smiles, "The love story of the century," 

Hope throws her hands up in mock defeat, beaming. "What do you want from me? To say we went on an epic adventure spanning multiple worlds? That's you, Carmen. Always wanting danger," 

Carmen rolls her eyes, "Had I known that a monster would be coming to the Salvatore School each week, I never would've left. You _suck_ for not telling me about that," 

"Precisely why I hadn't. I would never put you in danger. You're my baby sister, after all." 

"By, like, two days," 

"You're _still_ younger," 

With that, Carmen picks up her own pillow and hits her with it. 

Carmen hated shopping with her family members. Her mother and Hayley always insisted on going together and they'd spend _hours_ complementing each other in the dressing room. Rebekah would try to buy entire stores, Elijah would talk about how tactless the suits were, balking at anything cheaper than six thousand dollars. Klaus would buy her anything she looked at and it would just take _hours_ doing what needed to take fourty-five minutes. 

She was picking up the last minute things for the party before people had begun arriving. The colors being a maroon red and black. The cake needed to be picked up from the bakery but Everest had said she'd get that. 

Her friends would come and this would be one of the last times Carmen could see them. She brushed off the feeling of abandonment, forcing herself to _believe_ she was happy they were doing what they liked. 

She hummed to the song playing softly on the speakers, something from nearly ten years ago by a band called Blackpink? Blackred? She isn't sure. The language sounds foreign against her ears, only well versed in only English, French, and Latin. 

She tosses ten bite-sized bags of candy, each one for her friends and family in mind. Lila, Beatrice, and Harley favored sweet things. Nik would _die_ for Jollyranchers — only the cherry and green apple, though. With that in mind, Carmen tossed three more bags into her cart, checking her phone to make sure she had enough time to make him his own goody bag. Oliver, James, and Jackson liked chocolate. 

She planned on using a spell to the cashier to allow her to purchase a bottle of vodka and cigarettes. Jackson was bringing some weed. (Which _totally_ wasn't why she was buying all this candy. She _totally_ wasn't intending on bribing her cousins' silence while her family grilled Lilah)

Once she finished, she put everything in the trunk of her car. Carmen isn't going to fret on the boring details of the Hope-and-Carmen graduation party. Just know that Lilah is _lovely_ and she wanted to hate her but couldn't. 

Lilah was surprisingly chill with being in the same room as Klaus. 

Now, _this_ is where shit really gets wild. 

Carmen woke in the middle of the night after claiming she ate too much cake and food and needed to rest — Kol knew she was high but that's a story for another time. Something pulled at her chest, like a _tug_. 

Follow me, it said. There were no words yet Carmen knew what it meant. If she weren't high enough to think straight, she would've ignored the feeling, telling herself that _no, she shouldn't follow the creepy-ass feeling_. 

Really, she would've but she'd done the mental gymnastics trying to explain what had gone wrong that night. Carmen Mikaelson had a natural curiosity that resulted in her getting into ungodly amounts of trouble in her childhood. She _absolutely_ would've followed the feeling and she certainly would've ended up in a place home to pointy ears and misogyny but she doesn't like telling that part.

She slipped out of bed, stumbling out of the house and following the feeling until she reached an abandoned house. Her mind was foggy from a deep sleep that you never wanted to wake from. 

A woman is inside, "Hello," She purrs. 

"What—" Carmen begins. She recognizes her, just a little. From places here and there. Like a ghost that trailed her slightly. 

Carmen tries to turn around, stopping short when she realizes the sand and blood sprinkled into a perfectly shaped circle would prevent her from leaving. "What the fuck do you want?" She hisses, the wolf inside her flaring. 

The woman, who reveals herself as Jeanette, smiles, showing a row of pearly white teeth. "I apologize for this," She says, her accent thick. "An eye for an eye," 

She sobers quickly. Carmen shouts a spell but the only thing that happens is the air around her becoming stale with magic. A boundary spell. A protection spell. 

She was a goddamn Mikaelson witch — no one was going to defeat her. Yeah, she was all-powerful and all but... she was only eighteen. She hadn't reached anywhere near her peak and to be quite honest, she hadn't been practicing as much as she should — despite her dreams of becoming a legend. 

_I have all the time in the fucking world._

The air forces its way from her lungs, her heart beating painfully. It jerks and for a moment, Carmen worries _this_ is the end. Jeanette would tear her perfectly beating heart from her chest. Carmen clutches her heart, refusing for this to be the end. 

_You're a goddamn Mikaelson!_

She lets out a shout, tearing down the magic with sheer will. Though, it wasn't enough to keep the darkness from spreading throughout her vision. The last thing she can remember is the door exploding, the golden eyes from her father, and his shouts of rage as Carmen vanish into the unknown. 


	2. II. Show Me What It's Like To Burn

Carmen wakes to her head pounding in her skull, not giving her a moment of reprieve. It doesn't take long for her to realize her arms are bound tightly behind her back, a thick strip of fabric over her eyes. In the darkness, she can see her father's eyes, golden and glowing. Her breath gets caught in her throat, her heart beating erratically in her chest. 

_Okay, now you're_ officially _a Mikaelson,_ she tries to joke. _Are you really a Mikaelson unless you've gotten kidnapped or had someone to attempt to murder you?_ She can feel something stifling her magic, attempting to contain it. She tugs at her binds until her wrists are bloody, the strong scent of metal in her nose. Carmen Mikaelson was far too stubborn to accept defeat. Not that she'd ever say the words aloud but she admires Katherine Pierce. You know, the girl who'd gone through hell and back (no pun intended) and succeeded playing her uncle and father like a fiddle. 

If Katherine Pierce could survive running from her father for five hundred years (among many other tragic, tragic things) then Carmen could survive some witch trying to kill her. She stops, realizing that these binds were meant for something supernatural. They were too strong to be otherwise. Meant for those with superior strength. She sniffs at the air then looks sharply towards her left. 

"My father will kill you, Jeanette. Kidnapping his _favorite_ child? Yeah, you're entire family—" Carmen says, flashing her best smile towards the heartbeat. Klaus wouldn't ever say who his favorite child was but Carmen would always insist it was her. "He'll slaughter them. The things he did to _Katerina's_ village will look like child's play," 

She doesn't feel that scared now. The underlying fear is there, of course. Her family knew she was missing. They'd come for her and this would all be over before she knew it. She can clearly hear them walk towards her, feel the cool metal on her skin, threatening to cut. The tip of a blade lies against her arm.

 _Bring it_ , she thinks. _I'll heal. And then I'll kill you._

"How did you get into Velaris?" He asks, voice gruff. "Jeanette, did you go through puberty?" She asks, gasping when the knife slides into her skin, shredding it like tissue paper. _Hope,_ she thinks. When she was younger, she and Hope liked to pretend they had a special bond — one that let them read each other's minds. _Come find me._

Hope doesn't. 

Carmen rips at her binds, tugging with every ounce of strength until they give way and snap. tearing off the blindfold. _You're a Mikaelson. Kill him_. 

He's faster than she would've suspected, dark shadows clinging to him like a second skin. "Viribus _._ " Carmen tosses out her hand, the spell making his shadows retreat, leaving only wisps. The spell made him only as strong as she wanted him to be — though, it refused to take away the essence of his... power. 

_You're kin to Klaus,_ a feral part of her growls. _Act like it_. The wolf in her thirsts for blood and she nearly gave in, tearing him to pieces before she thought she'd be better off finding her way out of here. "Morator," She says, the magic tanging the air. The man doesn't move quickly enough, his eyes filling with fury. The door flings open once she says her spell, trapping him inside once she steps outside.

She'll have hell to pay — but so will he. 

Carmen has a complex. She both fears not being strong enough whilst thinking she's strong enough to fight anything. She doesn't think threats are as severe as they are. No, why would she? She's soon to be immortal. Her entire family is over a thousand years old (with the exception of Hope and her cousins) who are the strongest people she knows. If anything came her way, she'd never had to face it alone. 

Well, here she was, facing it alone. 

She used the strongest cloaking spell she knew. She slipped past people, keeping her gaze forward. She couldn't help but notice their... _ears?_ Which ended in sharp points? Some had sharp teeth, green skin, purple skin, eyes so black that there were no pupils. Sometimes, one would look in her direction and she hadn't known if her spell was too weak. It was a basic invisibility spell and she hadn't known what these... creatures were. It wasn't like she could _ask_ them. 

None, besides the one who was going to _torture_ her, looked anything like a human. Carmen was strong — she knew that. She was a tribrid (not a fully activated one but the point is there) but she was sheltered. She wasn't the best at magic, to her everlasting shame. She had always planned on learning it eventually? Freya always gave her shit for it but Carmen knew enough — for living in New Orleans, anyway. 

She'd still managed to make it out of the Saw-esque room _and_ locked the man inside. So, for all her faults, point one for Carmen Mikaelson. She recasts the spell every five minutes, strictly because of her paranoia at ending back in the room — the room that had tried to smother her magic like a candle being blown out. It hadn't worked, as much as (what she assumes) the magic had tried. It wasn't meant for magic like her own.

She passes by a man with blonde hair, "The High Lord should be here in a few days. The spymaster is already here," Carmen murmurs the word, _invisique_ , as she listens. "Why?" The man he's talking to says. "Seems he found a pet," 

"From Hybern?" 

"That's what he's trying to figure out,"

They were talking about her. If it wasn't obvious enough by the way they looked, then the geography gave it away. Sure, Carmen wasn't the most well versed in locations but... she'd fucking know about a city with people with pointy ears and odd-colored skin roamed. 

_Game on, Jeanette._ Carmen was going to tear her to _shreds_. 

Carmen craved adventure and danger. It was part of her as Hope often liked to joke. Maybe it was the wolf inside her, begging for the adrenaline that coursed through her veins when she was doing something she wasn't supposed to do. Baby Carmen first experienced this when she was five and wanted cookies. 

It was a thrill trying to get the cookies without Ophelia or Hayley noticing. (Which they did but Baby Carmen hadn't needed to know that) So much so that Carmen thought that getting the cookies was better than the actual cookies. 

Now, the feeling was the same once she got out of that mountain. She'd heard it referred to as the Court of Nightmares and Carmen nearly _laughed_ at how cheesy that sounded. It was nearly cartoonish — like a villain naming their home the _Lair of Doom_. 

Five minutes ago, there had been a tug on her magic. Like a chord snapping, which led her to believe that that man had managed to find his way out of the cell. Her ward had been broken. She'd hoped to find a way to Astral Project to Hope or Freya before he managed to track her down. Hell would be raised on this so-called Court of Nightmares once her family came for her. They wouldn't know true fear until Klaus came and squandered everything they held dear. 

In Carmen's mind, there was a distinct difference between Father-Klaus and Killer-Klaus. Nearly two different people. She'd seen Killer-Klaus tear heads from bodies, eat whole hearts, and be an all-around nightmare to be around. 

Then, there was Father-Klaus, who told her that her horrible paintings were good. Who'd done everything in his power to make sure she and Hope were safe and happy. Klaus who had loved deeply and all at once — or not at all. 

The one thing she was okay with was that she definitely was going to be put in a not-yet-written supernatural history book. Maybe she could even write it herself? _Carmen Mikaelson, the girl who ended in an alternate dimension or some shit, and lived to tell the tale!_

( _Yes,_ she is glad to ignore that she _could_ die here! A Mikaelson does not die easily ( _ignoring Uncle Finn)_ and she doesn't intend on being the first! Though, based on her family's history of being resurrected, there's no saying she'd stay dead for long)

Rocks crunch under Carmen's boots, her shorts doing little to provide warmth. She wasn't that upset about it as she was practically a furnace on her own. She began moving down the large rock, seeing nothing but snowcapped mountains around her. 

She didn't even bother with the invisibility spell anymore. That must've been the reason for living inside the mountain — to thwart enemies and those alike? If they escaped it, they'd most likely die once they reached the mountains. 

Maybe she was wrong entirely. Someone, practically appearing out of thin air, slammed themselves into her body. Carmen felt her claws come out, raking them down the first thing she could as they tumbled down the mountain. They let out a hiss, their hand colliding with her gut. 

_What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck_ — 

Carmen lets out a shout, a multitude of spells at the tip of her tongue, ready for her to just use them but she can't think. Not while they crash down the mountain, the cuts and bruises tearing her skin as they attack each other, the man much better than she is. His moves were precise while hers had been overtaken by anger and panic. They stop once they reach a flat piece with it dipping into nothing but air feet before them. 

She grabs part of his wing and _yanks_ , her claws sliding into the membrane. His hand collides with her cheek and she reaches forward and sinks her teeth into his arm, her eyes glowing yellow, surrounded by black. His eyes widen and he pulls out a knife. 

A girl with golden-brown hair appears before them, she raises her hand, "Az, don't," 

He falls back without questioning her and Carmen can see the girl's eyes flicker over her. Her clothing was unlike anything worn in Prythian and if she had any doubts that the girl was something else entirely, the healing — faster than a fae's — would've told her something was off. 

"What the hell are you?" She asked. 

Carmen simply stands straighter, "None of your fucking business," Her satisfaction at having a semblance of an upper hand didn't last long. Darkness swarmed her vision as she dropped like a marionette doll. 

Staring down at the girl's limp body, Feyre sighs, "That was eventful,"

Azriel tosses the girl over his shoulder, the throbbing in his wing dulled by adrenaline. "You can say that,"


	3. III. Darkness Incarnate

Carmen Mikaelson has all the time in the world. Thousands upon thousands of years until one day, she'll stake herself. Melodramatic? Yes but not without reason. This time the reason _isn't_ being a Mikaelson. It's more complex than that if you were to ask her. It's just... Carmen isn't dumb. One day, she'll wake up and realize she's past the point of being a monster because the older an immortal got, the more you lose touch with your humanity. Those simple pleasures won't exist _—_ or they won't be the same. She'll find herself hurting people for fun. 

Killer-Klaus' humanity had only been brought back by baby Hope and Carmen. What if that doesn't work for Carmen? She means that Klaus had lived for a thousand years, believing that being alive was all that he'd get, watching as everyone aged and died around him. Then, he learned that there was so much more than he thought. But... having children cannot fix everything — and she shouldn't expect it to. 

Before, he'd done unspeakable things. Yes, Carmen _knew_ of them but... knowing and _knowing_ weren't the same thing. She knew that Klaus has slaughtered thousands of people but without faces and names, it was almost _easy_ to forget. Because Killer-Klaus and Father-Klaus weren't the same people and she had nothing to worry about. She'd never be at the end of his rampage nor anyone else's. (Well, that was _before_ she ended up here!)

Carmen blinks, her vision blurry for a few moments, jerking when she makes out the girl standing above her. She's painfully thin, her eyes and hair are dull, and her dress hangs off her shoulders, revealing two collarbones that look like they're going to snap with the slightest bit of pressure. 

"Hey," Carmen says, pulling herself up. "Hi," She says again when the girl only stares blankly. The door is left open, revealing a closed door on the other side. 

"You don't look like I thought," The girl mumbles quietly. She reaches forward, fingers grazing her cheek as soft as a lover's kiss. "Pretty," She says so softly. It makes Carmen's breath catch in her throat. "You don't look like a wolf at all. No shadows. No death," The girl says. Carmen's eyebrows furrow as the girl sits gently down beside her. 

_No shadows. No death_. 

"I'm supposed to be getting married," The girl says, clasping her arms in front of her. Carmen nods her head, her eyes wide, utterly unsure of what to say. This must be a joke, right? They must've sent this girl in here to see how she'd react? If she'd attack? 

Carmen has met her fair share of people who weren't the most mentally stable. People who'd been unable to get the care they needed — back home, those mentally ill were often mistreated. Often thrown to the wolves, it happened more times than anyone cared to admit. Witches corrupted by their use of dark magic. Werewolves who were driven to sheer insanity by their curse. Vampires who'd flipped off their humanity switch. This girl was different — she didn't look insane... just _haunted_. 

"What's your name?" Carmen asks, heart-tugging in her chest. "Elain," She says, staring at the door. "Do—Do you want it closed?" Elain doesn't move or blink and Carmen wonders if this is a dream. She means that seriously — Elain reminded her of those freaky ghosts in movies. Someone who has had something so terrible happen to them that they couldn't move on into the afterlife. 

With two fingers, Carmen magically closes the door. Elain cocks her head, her brown eyes wide. "I'm Carmen," 

"The wolf," Elain says, her eyes brightening. It looks odd with her blank face. "I've seen you in my dreams. You didn't look like you. I know it was," 

"Ah," Carmen says, speechless once again. "Do you need me to go find someone for you?" If this Elain was insane, Carmen doesn't want to be the one to bear the brunt of it. Carmen stands, her legs feeling like jelly as she bounced on the balls of her feet until the blood began flowing freely. Hope would know that to do. (Completely terrible thought but why couldn't _Hope_ be the one to end up here? Preferably no one would _but_ Hope was, without a doubt, better equipped to handle this. She was better at magic — she was kinder and smarter) 

"Elain," Carmen says, kneeling before her. She grins warmly, asking as softly as she can, "Do you know a way out of here? My family is looking for me," She wanted to be gone before the winged man had come back. Carmen squints at the girl's face, jerking back once she realizes how similar she and the other woman looked. 

Elain looks back to the large window. "Here but not here," She says. "Can you hear it? The growls?" Carmen sucks in a sharp breathe, standing up as Elain continues, "I hear them but no one else seems to," Elain squints, "The chanting isn't so loud anymore,"

Carmen mutters that she could rather be in the cell than with the weird girl who talked in shambles. "Where's your shadows? The darkness—" Elain is cut off when the door flies open, a girl with sharper features than Elain stomping into the room, cursing at her, "Don't you fucking touch her!" 

It would be so easy to snap her, the darkness inside her says. _No,_ Carmen whispers back. 

"Nesta, she's my _friend_ ," Elain says and Nesta's head snaps towards her, eyes wide. Her face softens, "You're _talking_. You _left_ your room," Nesta looks at Carmen then Elain. Carmen wouldn't say that she and Elain were friends but if it got her back home? Carmen would be the best friend Elain had ever had. Rude, maybe, but when you end up in a weird-ass world, Carmen thinks anything is up for grabs.

Nesta leans in close, nails digging into Carmen's arm. "If you try in _any_ wayto hurt her, I'll tear you to shreds," Her eyes are as cold as ice and Carmen can't find it in herself to blame her for her threats. If Elain was Hope? She would've done worse to a strange girl who attacked one of her friends. 

That doesn't ease her. Her eyes glow, the white of her eyes turning black. Her magic forces Nesta to take several steps back or risk being crushed. Nesta simply snorts out of her nose. "You too?" Carmen blinks at her, unsure of what to make of the girl standing in front of her. 

"My sister's coming to _interview_ you," Nesta says, grabbing Elain gently by the arm and leading her out. Before she leaves, Elain flashes a small smile — so small it couldn't be considered a smile — and Nesta's mouth opens agape, flickering between Elain and Carmen. 

"What are you?" The man perched on the side of a chair asks. The woman from before, Feyre, sits on the chair, various people around them — including the one from before. A bandage was wrapped around where her claws sunk into his wing. 

Carmen leans back into her hair, tossing her hands up slightly. "I... don't know how to explain it?" 

"Try," A short girl with black cropped hair says. Orders, mostly. Carmen sighs, her head rolling against the back of her chair. She can tell her informality is annoying them. It gladdens her. As far as she's concerned, she's been fucking kidnapped. Kidnapped people do not have to comply — especially after she's been threatened with torture. "Do you know what werewolves are?" 

They stare blankly at her. Carmen groans, "You have weird-ass ears but you don't know what a werewolf is? What even are you?" She glances over to the man — Azriel if she heard correctly — and adds, "Besides demons," 

"You first," Feyre says. Carmen shifts in her seat, "Can you all stop staring at me like that? It's fucking uncomfortable." She scrunched her face, tilting her head back and forth as she tries to form her words. "Well, werewolves are cursed humans," She begins. "The whole thing is complicated and, no offense, but none of your business. The whole point is that I have a curse. I also have magic because I'm, you know, a _witch. There are_ also some other things thrown in there," Carmen throws her hands together in a circular motion. "Cool, innit?"

Mor, the blonde one, asks, "Who cursed you? What does the curse entail?" 

"Its a bloodline curse. My father had it, his father, and everyone before him." A large sigh comes from her nose. "Every bone in my body breaks once a month and I turn into a wolf. Painful, yes, but... there are ways around that," They looked unsure of what to say. 

"A witch?" Amren repeats slowly. 

"How did you get out of Hewn City unnoticed?" Rhysand, still perched beside Feyre, asks. Carmen rolls her eyes, wondering when her questions would get answered. Sure, Carmen Mikaelson had all the time in the world but she didn't want to spend that time here with — _them_. 

"Magic. Made myself invisible. I thought it was called the ' _Court of Nightmares?'_ Whoever changed that was good, though. It's hard to take that seriously," Carmen says, crossing one leg over the other. Rhysand looked mildly offended. 

Amren, the smallest one, had magic that Carmen could _feel_. Maybe it was a tribrid thing or maybe it was something all witches felt but if they paid enough attention but Carmen didn't have to focus on it. It was just... there. Buzzing. _Breathing_. Carmen wondered if she could feel her too. "Do you know how to cast spells?" She looks more intrigued than she had any right to be. Carmen squints at her, "Yes. I'm a _witch_. And I need to get out of here,"

"Where are you from?" Cassian asks. 

"New Orleans. A fucking witch sent me here and I don't know where _this_ is," Carmen says. She hadn't felt a tug on her magic. Of a relative reaching out and trying to see if she were still alive. Baby Hope and Carmen used to do it when they were sent to bed and they would reach out and see if the other were awake. Though once Carmen and Hope were in New Orleans and Mystic Falls it felt little more than a tickle. Here, Carmen wondered if she'd feel it at all. 

"You're in Prythian. The Night Court. This place is led by the High Lord, Rhysand, and High Lady, Feyre," Mor says, gesturing to the two of them. "We're fae. Cassian and Azriel are Illyrians — not demons. In Prythian there are seven courts — Spring, Autumn, Winter, Summer, Day, Dawn, and Night." 

Everything Carmen was being told wouldn't help her. Which, Carmen guessed, was why they were telling her. 

"We're in the middle of a war, girl," Amren tells her. She walks towards Carmen, stopping within reaching distance. Carmen gulps. "I can help you home if you help us," Amren jerked her chin back towards the others. 

Carmen leaned back, "I want an oath," 

"A what?" Azriel speaks. Carmen ignored him, still feeling bitter over the fight. Considering he didn't attack her on sight, he must not hold hard feelings but she wondered how long they could be _'kind'_ to her if she were to refuse. She _would_ need their help if Freya or Hope hadn't found a way to this world. 

"You'll make sure I get home if I help you," Carmen says. "I want a blood oath," 

"Fine,"

A long slit upon Carmen's palm seals her fate here. 

Carmen Mikaelson was many things: terrible painter, _amazingly_ beautiful, excellent beyond compare, and as of recently — a predator who was finally given the chance to hunt. 


	4. IV. The Past Is Gone

Carmen isn't blind to the way the world works. Those who are _lucky_ enough to be gifted with power (whether supernatural or not) find a way to trample on those unfortunate souls who find themselves on the bottom. Take her father, for example, Klaus Mikaelson had always been at the _top_. Even before he unbound his werewolf side, he was unkillable. He tormented his family — and after Carmen and Hope's birth, resentment still laced their family. Ophelia hadn't quite forgiven Klaus for endangering her daughter time after time — because he was _stronger_ than them. He'd stolen hundreds upon hundreds of years from them because he was in the midst of a temper tantrum. 

Prythian is the same. Here, women, lesser fae, and humans are at the bottom (in that order). Carmen can't bring herself to care too much about the issues woven in their world. Not when she's been forced into another world with nothing but the clothes on her back and the magic at her fingertips. She knows it's not permanent. Gods, The Mikaelson's wouldn't stop trying until Carmen was safe and sound back home. If Klaus hadn't found a way to get her home, her mother would most likely gut him and string his insides around the Mikaelson Estate. Hayley and Hope would help her. 

Because as many issues as the Mikaelson's may have with one another — and the atrocious acts they committed against one another — they were _family_. Always and forever. As long as Carmen bore the family name or blood, she would be family. She would always _mean_ something. 

In Prythian, she was only useful to them as long as they could use her magic. Amren slides a book in front of Carmen and she flips open the pages. The book is heavy in her hand and she knows without a doubt that it's filled with dubious magic. The magic that those at the Salvatore School would _balk_ at their students using (not that she'd ever admitted it but it was another reason she chose to leave and that she wouldn't trust that headmaster to protect a _rat_ — let alone her _life_ ) and her eyes roam the pages. 

"This isn't in my language," Carmen states after a moment. They speak the same tongue, yes, but their alphabet was unrecognizable to her. She isn't too pressed about it at this moment. Most of her questions remained unanswered and she wasn't too keen about the idea of getting involved in this war with Hybern. It was, quite frankly, _none of her business_. Why should she care about this? These people mean nothing to her. If they died — well, that's _not_ her problem. They weren't her people and they weren't her family. 

Amren groans and a small smile curls at Carmen's lips. _Good,_ she thinks, _I'm annoyed, too_. 

Nesta sits beside her, glaring warily at her with a hint of something else in her grey eyes. Carmen closes her book back, flicking it forward with her finger. "Hybern? Tell me about them," 

"The book is more imp—" Amren begins. Carmen cuts her off, marveling in the flames stirring in her silver eyes. Oddly, it reminds her of home. "I'd like to know what I've gotten myself into. How about this: if you answer any of my questions, I'll answer one of yours. I know you've got plenty. I mean, how could you not? It's not every day that a girl with many talents falls into your precious city," Presumably. Carmen woke in the dungeons. 

"Fine," Amren relents, if only because of her curiosity. Nesta relaxes in her seat, unbothered by the lessons being interrupted. Her fingers weave into the gray sleeve of her gown, unsure if she should show her feelings. She certainly doesn't trust Carmen and Carmen doesn't expect her to. Though, the glares were fucking annoying. "Tell me about the curse and don't _lie_ , girl," 

Carmen bites her cheek, refusing to argue about why _she_ had to go first. "The werewolf curse spreads through bloodlines and it's existed for more than a thousand years. No one knows where it comes from, though. I think it had to be from a witch. _Obviously_. A strong one because no one can crack it. Uh — um. Most times, it gets forgotten. I know of a person who hadn't even known what they were until they've activated the curse and each bone in their body begins breaking. It remains dormant until someone takes an innocent human's life. Accidental or not — it doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is that someone's died and you played a part in it." Carmen twirls a lock of hair around her finger. 

"When does this happen?" Amren asks while Nesta questions, "So, you've killed an innocent human?" 

Carmen scoffs, "Accidentally or _not_ , Nesta. That's, like, the keyword," She turns back to Amren, "The night of the full moon," Carmen frowns at her bare hand, the ring nowhere in sight. Fucking Jeanette. "...Which is when?" 

"In three days," Amren replies. 

"Fuck," Carmen breathes, forcing a sigh in through her nose. She hadn't had to experience one without her moonlight ring or potions from her Aunt Freya. "So, what _exactly_ happens? How did you break your curse?" Nesta asks. "I want to know who's spending time with my sister," 

"I've had _one_ conversation with her," Carmen says. "Slowly, each bone in my body will break. Each muscle will tear and there's no stopping it. My sister says that it goes by fast if you don't resist but that's... How are you supposed to resist each part of you breaking over hours?" Her voice is heavy before she forces a smile across her face. "Magical outburst. When I was thirteen, someone tried to kill my mother — so I killed them."

"But they weren't innocent," Amren interjects, trying to prod around to make sure they didn't invite a spy or... something into their home. Carmen rolls her eyes, "They had yet to spill blood. Nature considered them innocent. It doesn't matter what you or I think them to be," 

"Any more questions about the curse or can I ask something now?" Carmen asks. Amren motioned for her to continue with a flick of her fingers. 

"So," Carmen begins, wondering how long this will continue and which questions she'd be best off asking. "Feyre and Rhysand are High Lord and Lady and there are six others. Where are they? Shouldn't they be fighting this war, too? And what does Hybern want?"

"We're in contact with the others," Amren says, her voice clear. "Hybern wants to take everything. They believe they're _entitled_ to everything. They, most of all, want to enslave humans and take back what they believe was stolen from them." 

Carmen jerked back. "Slavery?" In her world, it was a far-off term. Something that hadn't been legal in two hundred years... but her _brother_ used to be a slave. Marcel Gerard wasn't named until Klaus named him. So, how far off _was_ it? "And what are you going to do about it?"

 _God,_ Carmen wanted to go home. She missed her phone and her laptop. She missed her friends and her family. She didn't want to be in a world where slavery was more than present. 

"We're going to kill them," Cassian, the one with shoulder-length hair says when he enters the room. Nesta straightens in her seat, openly glaring at him. It wasn't hostile, though. Cassian smirked at her, glancing past Carmen. She blinked, looking back and forth in confusion. "Or we die trying," 

That sounded melodramatic. 

"Get out," Amren snaps. "We're busy,"

"Doing what? Partaking in storytime?" Cassian clicks his tongue. 

She isn't sure what he's here to do. Though, she lets out a long sigh when he says, "Azriel wants to speak with you," Amren begins to interrupt but Cassian says, "Rhys ordered it,"

"I'm not going to murder you all in your sleep if that's what you're worried about," Carmen says Not that she's mention it — because she isn't a _coward_ — but she's a _tad_ worried about Azriel attempting to beat her ass. Could she fight him and win? Probably _not_. With her _magic_? Probably. With his family around, they wouldn't let it get that far. "We're not," He says. 

That was a fucking _lie_. Carmen would if a weird-ass girl fell into her world, broke out of prison, fought her friend, then claimed to be something she's _never_ heard of. She'd be _intent_ on killing them herself. How far up shit creek were they? 

The chair screeches against the marble floor as she stands. "Where to?" 


	5. V. The Sun Had Spoke

Carmen stares blankly at the man before her. His shadows come over his shoulders, seemingly apart of him as breathing. She watches intently as they come near her, resting near her wrist. "Are you listening?" He, just as bored as her. Both seem like they'd rather be anywhere besides here. Carmen raises an eyebrow, " _No_ ," She says. She expects the shadows to feel cold but they're not... they feel _warm_. 

"We're going to the Court of Nightmares — and you're to go with us," He says, leaning no room for argument. "I'm busy tonight tomorrow. Unless you want me to _eat_ them, of course," The look on Azriel's face implies he didn't think that was the worst idea in the world. Carmen Mikaelson crossed her arms. She hadn't apologized for attacking him and she doesn't intend on it. He doesn't apologize for being seconds away from torturing her. "On Friday," He mutters. He doesn't seem to talk loudly. 

They've come to a mutual agreement that they're going to pretend like it didn't happen — for now. "So, what exactly happens in the Court of Nightmares?" They're in the middle of the woods, staking out a place for her to spend the full moon. She's heard stories of what it was like and before Carmen had even broken the curse, she'd insisted on never experiencing it. As a child, she'd never thought she'd have to take a life. She'd been one of those girls who'd cry when someone had been hurt. She'd been nearly inconsolable during those sad puppy commercials. Once Carmen triggered it, she'd realized she had to grow up. 

She'd gotten a moonlight right and a potion she'd took each month, learning how to brew it herself. She'd even considered binding it but Ophelia and Hayley talked her out of it. The werewolf curse was apart of her, whether she liked it or not. They'd made it clear that Carmen was free to do what she'd liked but she hadn't wanted to disappoint them. 

"They're jackasses," Azriel says, voice sharp as steel. It nearly takes Carmen aback. Soft, quiet Azriel — Carmen can tell the rage is always simmering. Always there just like his shadows. "They deserve nothing but death," Carmen listens before shrugging, "Rhysand is High Lord — why doesn't he do it? Get rid of the bad and keep the good," 

"And if none of them are good?" He questions, curiosity peeking in his voice. Carmen shrugs, "I don't believe that. People are a product of their environment and based on the way you all described it, you can't survive unless you're fucking terrible." She pauses, taking a deep breath. The air here isn't tainted by pollution and machinery. 

"It's not that simple," Azriel says. Carmen simply shrugs. She... doesn't think Rhysand is a very good leader but she's inclined to keep those opinions to herself. Especially around someone as loyal as Azriel. They walk in silence until they reach a large cave that runs, she assumes, miles. She runs her finger along the edge, the black mouth simmering with magic. A boundary, perhaps? In Prythian, magic is deeply engrained in everything that Carmen felt it wherever she went. It was a reassuring presence, reminding her that this wasn't her home. Eventually, if she had to, she would tear open a portal and force her way home. 

She trusts Freya, though. She trusts her mother. She trusts Hope. This isn't as much of a problem as much as a roadblock. She _will_ get home, without a doubt. This could be considered an unwanted vacation but it could be fun? Maybe, maybe. 

"It'll work," She says. Azriel's eyes skim over her face, watching her. His wing has healed entirely — from magic, she thinks. She doesn't know how quickly a fae or Illyrian can heal but she doesn't think it's quicker than a vampire. Her hands rest on the rock and she thinks she can feel the magic pulsing in her palm. "Do you have magic?" She asks. "Siphons," He says. Carmen's eyes widen, "Oh! You can siphon magic? Like the Gemini Coven?" 

"No," He says quickly. "Illyrian's wear them for battle," Disappointment fluttered in her chest. "Siphoners are witches who don't have their own magic. They have to get their magic from other beings — vampires, witches, werewolves. I don't know if you can be siphoned. I don't know much about Illyrian's," 

"Vampires?" He asks, unable to help the curiosity peaking his voice. A small smile comes across Carmen's face at that. "They're sort of my equivalent of faeries? They're immortal and powerful but the difference is that vampires aren't born. You have to die to become one," 

Azriel nods after a moment, soaking in each word. It's a hard habit to break — sorting through each and every word, trying to find out if what's being said is trivial or not. "Have you become one?" He asks. Most likely, they wouldn't ever come in contact with the Gemini Coven nor a werewolf or vampire beside herself. "No," She says. "Not yet,"

"What happened to your hands?" Carmen asks after a moment, picking one up. Azriel tenses, the shadows appearing around his shoulders so dark she wondered if it would feel like a brick wall. "You don't have to answer that — it was rude of me," 

"Family," Is all he says. Carmen frowns. Sometimes, she forgets that every family isn't like hers and the Saltzman clan. "Are they dead?" She asks. "Yes," He says. 

"Good," Is the only thing she says before dropping his hand. 

Carmen Mikaelson wanted to be great. Once, her father had said that pleasure could be found in pain but as Carmen sat in the cave with the cool air nipping at her bare skin, she couldn't find any pleasure. Not whilst she sat in a foreign world with nothing but her magic. Granted, it was more than others could've asked for. Carmen was fucking powerful — she was a force of nature. 

Nature just had to work its course. It might not be _easy_ but she could do it. Maybe it was the Mikaelson pride but she was good enough to succeed. 

At the mouth of the cave, she couldn't see anything besides the remnants of her magic, which blurred slightly like heat. She didn't know if any of the fae could sense it the way witches could. Even if they had, the likelihood of someone breaking her barrier was slim to none. Carmen took a deep breath and leaned back. She knew it was going to be a long night. 

It had started not long after. She screamed, the bone in her leg snapping and jutting out into her skin. The muscles in her knee tore. Then it was her arm and her collarbone. "Please," She said to no one in particular. "Make it stop," It felt as though her whole body was being lit on fire then put out only for salt to be poured into the wound. Carmen gasped raggedly. How could she do this every month for the rest of her life? 

The healing part of her was fighting with the curse, healing something only for it to break directly after. She thought of her father's words — how it would end if she accepted the pain. That was the worst advice she had ever heard a day in her life. How many moons had Klaus turned? Like three? Terrible, terrible advice. 

Claws replaced her nails, sliding into the cold rock. Another scream burrowed out of her throat as she tried to overcome the curse — maybe that's why no werewolf had been able to shift quickly. Each was too _prideful_ to admit this wasn't something they could beat. So, what should take minutes bled into hours. At that moment, it was easy to pretend she was under the same moon as her family. God, how she missed them. 

Hope and Carmen used to sit under the moon, telling each other revisioned fairy-tales. They would try to make it as horrifying as possible. Belle who'd been kidnapped and eaten by the Beast. Rapunzel who had to have _all_ her hair sheered — which, thinking back, wasn't something they should've been scared over but five-year-old Carmen and Hope had been scared of, well, everything. 

_Hope_ , she thinks _. I need you._

Carmen collapsed, each part of her body aching and prodding against her skin. She took a deep breath, letting the shift take over. It hurt more than she thought possible as _everything_ continued snapping too quickly for it to heal. 

There, in the center of the cave, was a black wolf. 


	6. VI. Court Of Night

The girl lies limply on the floor, the signs unaffected from the night before. Elain had heard her screaming, covering her ears and rocking softly while whimpering until dawn had broke. Nothing Nesta, Feyre, or Lucien had said could make her stop, only flinching when someone touched her. Carmen, on the other hand, had felt rested. Alive, even. She looks at her hands, finding them unbroken. Her clothes remained in a pile in the corner of the cave, pushed away. It wasn't what she'd thought it would be like. The turning had been worse, yes, but once she was a wolf, she wasn't overtaken with a rage so fierce nothing could calm it. Klaus had slaughtered people left and right upon breaking the hybrid curse. 

She'd remembered being annoyed at being confined, unable to run wild under the moon. It had sung in her bones, telling her the night had belonged to her. Something akin to loneliness was there too — at the loss of her pack. Carmen stood, shrugging on her clothes before murmuring a spell to get rid of the boundary. Rhysand had been on the other side, leaning against the cave. Neither said a word as they began walking. "War is upon us. Maybe the Cauldron had placed you here for a reason," He begins. Carmen scoffs, "The Cauldron didn't do shit. A bitch named Jeanette did. I suppose I understand what you're saying, though. You think my magic can help you,"

"You think it can't?" Rhys asks, raising a brow as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. Carmen shrugs on a jacket. "If you're relying on me, a girl you've met a few days ago, to win a war that I don't care about, then I'd say you don't have good odds, to begin with," Rhysand studies her for a moment, slightly annoyed at her tone. She would help them only because she agreed to but she wouldn't beat herself up over losing. Quite frankly, she didn't care about anything that happened to anyone in this world. First and foremost, Carmen would take care of Carmen. 

"What all would you do to get home?" He asks. Carmen rips off a leaf from the nearest tree, "Cleave the world in two if I have to," She raises an eyebrow, the steady crunch of leaves and twigs underneath them, giving him a mocking glare, "Trying to get rid of me already, Rhysand?" 

Carmen wasn't threatened by him — not then she could crush every bone in his neck with a single hand movement. The High Lords might be a different breed but so was she. Perhaps it was the Mikaelson confidence but Carmen wasn't threatened here. From what she's seen, there was no white oak and she wasn't going to let anyone tear out her heart or cut off her head. 

"So, you intend on taking me to the Court of Nightmares. What exactly am I supposed to do there?" She questions, throwing the torn leaf onto the floor before picking another one. "You're... untapped as far as anyone in my Court is concerned. Show off your power — tell them what would happen they decide against helping us," 

"They're _your_ Court. Order them to do it. Isn't that the whole point of being High Lord?" She asks. Her father would simply kill anyone who refused to listen to him. Even those who did listen — only to prove a point. "It's an agreement between Hewn City and Velaris," Carmen stares blankly, thinking it was the _stupidest_ thing she had ever heard. "Okay," She says. "How am I supposed to scare them? Project their worst nightmares? Melt their brains?" Her voice gets more excited as she talks. " _Maul_ them?" 

"Preferably _no_. Mostly, you're to provide a distraction. A human in the city in unheard of. Use your magic if you please. Injure them if you'd like but make sure the attention stays firmly on you. Can you do that?" 

Carmen tosses her head back in a laugh. "There's nothing I love more than attention," 

"You don't _have_ to do this if you don't want," Mor says, clasping the diamond necklace around her throat. "Hewn City isn't a place I'd want anyone to be." Carmen turns around to find the girl who is the sun personified. Reminding her of Harley, she'd instantly taking a liking to Mor. "I can handle myself. People have been trying to kill me since conception — I'm not scared of a few pricks who pride themselves on possessing zero manners." She places her hands on her hips, turning to put herself in multiple positions. "Stunning," Mor smiles back, the hint of concern still in her eyes. She wants to ask her meaning but doesn't want to bring up any hurt feelings — not that it would but Mor doesn't want to risk anything. 

Mor... wasn't like anyone else in this world. She was _good_. Better than Carmen could ever hope to be. If it came down to it, Carmen believed she'd do anything to get what she'd wanted, no matter who it hurt. She'd killed the man who tried to harm her mother without a second thought. It hadn't even occurred to her she didn't have to kill him at that moment. She simply did. 

Mor holds out her hand, "Well, we better get going," 

The power thrums off of her, almost as if it was a living thing. It was nearly a constant effort to keep it going but it had their intended goal: it _was_ quite distracting. Heads watched her, staying on her human features, listening to her human heartbeat. Mor walked beside her, insisting on not leaving her to the mercy of them. 

Carmen wasn't supposed to hear that conversation — it was between Rhys and Mor, down a dark hallway. Rhysand insisted she'd be alright because she'd _escaped_ Azriel without breaking a sweat while Mor was arguing that Carmen was innocent in this whole mess. She was slightly angered by Rhysand caring little for her life but she wasn't going to hold it against him. She'd just let him die if it came down to it. 

They bowed to Feyre and Rhys before turning away, each doing what they were meant to do. _Distract_ , Carmen thinks. She rolls her neck, making sure _everyone_ sees her. No one had yet to lay their eyes on her — least of all, Mor's father. Carmen marveled in the attention, pride, and something else swelling in her. Her sharp nails curled around Azriel's arm, giving him a smirk, "See you soon," 

The siphons flashed briefly. While they were getting ready, Azriel let her hold one. It _smashed_ the second it laid in her palm, small pieces embedding itself into the wall and her flesh. She picked it out and flicked it, Azriel watching as her skin sewed itself back together. 

"You must be Kieran," She says sultry. Mor's brother took a swing of wine, eyes narrowed at her, attempting to see through glamour. There was no way a _human_ had been able to harness such power. "And you are?" He asks, leaning against the wall. "Magnificent," Carmen replies, plucking the cup out of his hand and bringing it to her lips, ignoring the annoyance flickering in his jaw. Carmen cocked her head to the side, glancing at Nesta and Amren, who disappeared through a set of double doors. "Carmen. Carmen Mikaelson, but I think you want to know _what_ am I?"

She gives him back his glass and he doesn't know whether or not he should be intrigued or annoyed. Eventually, his curiosity outweighs his despise for her apparent kind. Carmen wishes she could haul off and punch him in the throat. _In due time_ , she thinks. Should his attention sway to the others, that's just what she'd do. 

It was a marvelous game, after all. Everything here was. She was Carmen fucking Mikaelson and she was fucking fantastic. Confidence filled her and Hope had often said she was over-confident. It would lead to her downfall, Hope mused. _Doubt it,_ Carmen would always reply. 

He glanced at her seeping neckline before running his fingers through his blonde hair. "What street gutter did they pull you out of?" He asks. Carmen laughs, "Same as you, I suppose," His nose twitches. He drinks deeply. "Rhysand must've brought you from the mortal lands. No, no," He tilts his head as he studies her, "Your accent isn't the same — nor is the power. Humans here don't possess that kind." He flicks his hand, two more goblets of wine appearing, replacing his empty one. He hands her the first. His finger runs over her ear, earning him a bored look, "Interesting," He says. 

"Interesting indeed," Carmen replies. "Now, get your hand off before I tear it from your body," Kieran laughs. "Indeed," 


	7. VII. Brighter Than A Blue Sky

"With her?" Lucien asks, jerking his chin towards her. Carmen rolled her eyes. Rhysand reclined slightly against the wall, letting Feyre talk. "As Carmen is— _looks_ mortal, it'll make things go smoother. You won't have to worry about people questioning why you, a faerie, is alone in the _Mortal_ Kingdoms," Feyre explained. Carmen glances around, noting the tense way everyone stands. She doesn't know how everything had gone wrong in the Court of Nightmares but Rhysand betrayed Mor's trust. Carmen _might_ be a professional shit started, ruining friendships simply because she could but she wouldn't do something like _that_ to Hope or her cousins. Carmen didn't hold herself to high standards — she wasn't someone who held high morals. Quite frankly, Carmen Mikaelson didn't give a shit. She knew she'd kill again before she found her way home and she couldn't bring herself to care about that. Part of her _craved_ it. 

"She doesn't know her way from a horses ass," Lucien says, crossing his strong arms over his chest. Carmen gives him a bored look, "As you do? You've never left Prythian, have you, Luce?" He scowls at the name before Carmen continues, "I might be incompetent but so are you," Besides, there were some logistics about Carmen going. Showing potential allies what the High Fae had on their side and whose wrath they'd be risking by declining aid. After the attack with the Ravens, they've realized how quickly this war was approaching. If they were unable to get help in time and Prythian was utterly destroyed, Carmen would rather be on the other side of the world — even if it was with this red-haired imbecile. 

Carmen had yet to understand how Hybern had managed to break through their wards on multiple occasions but that was the least of her problems. She was so fucking bored she might choose to end it all. Without her phone, laptop, decent books, and anything that gave her an ounce of serotonin, she was considering throwing herself off the nearest cliff. Carmen had a hard time falling asleep in unfamiliar places (something she attributes to being kidnapped when she was ten) and she even though she had _forgiven_ Azriel, she didn't trust him not to slit her throat while she slept. After all, he tortured people for a living. Carmen didn't find it hard to believe that the Night Court was infamous around Prythian for being terrible. 

Velairs and Hewn City were two sides of the same coin — in regards to their leaders, of course. Keir and Rhysand were varying levels of terrible. Carmen didn't think he'd ever torture and dump his daughter like trash for getting a quick fuck _but_ he didn't kill Kier the first chance he got. Rhysand, the fucking _High Lord_ allowed the Court of Nightmares to get as bad as it did. Truly, the whole Court should be thrown away at this point. It seemed that the only people who were thriving were those closest to Rhysand and those lucky enough to be in Velaris — everyone else was thrown to the wolves. 

Rebekah would pitch a fit if she heard how women were treated in the camps. Marcel wouldn't _dream_ of allowing _children_ to be treated in such ways. Like, yeah, her family was a bunch of psychos but they weren't _that_ bad. Her deceased aunt, Kara, had delighted in killing immoral men who preyed on the weak and innocent. According to her father, Elena fucking Gilbert had been the one to kill her, alongside her twin brother, Kris. Either way, Carmen could think about her dislike for the High Lord for _days_. 

"Besides, I'm sure it'll be fun. I mean, who _wouldn't_ want to be married to me? I'm fucking fantastic," Carmen says, throwing an arm around Lucien, who snorted. Carmen squeezed his arm in mock warning. She liked him, she decided. If she had to choose one person to save from a burning building, it would be Elain. Then Morrigan. Then Nesta. And _then_ Lucien. "My confidence in this going well is astounding," Lucien mocks. Feyre stares at them, surprise flickering in her eyes. This is the first time she's seen him unfocused on Elain or in a deep, dark pit of despair. If Carmen notices the tension around the Inner Circle, she doesn't mention it. But, sometimes it's thick enough to cut a knife and she might be a bit of a ditz but not enough to notice that. 

"We find Vassa. I can do a few locating spells to attempt to help us but, most likely, we won't be able to. Based on my knowledge of curses, some are incredibly hard to track and I'm not experienced enough to go around it. It's hard to explain if you're unfamiliar with the magic I'm using but the closest way to describe it is a _buzz?_ I'll feel a pull, even with the cloaking spell," They stare at her blankly. "But you can do it?" Cassian asks. Carmen throws her hands up, "Probably. If anyone can, it's me," 

She twirls a lock of hair around her finger, "I can cloak something so we can keep in contact but that's worth the risk of Hybern hijacking the spell," 

"That can happen?" Nesta asks. Carmen nods, "If you're strong enough, you can intercept any spell. With resurrection — after the Harvest Ritual, the girls that were supposed to wake up didn't. This woman had used the magic for her choosing. Once those she picked died, the magic rerouted back towards the ones it was intended for. Natures way of righting itself, I think," Carmen says. Magic was something she could spend hours talking about. During the weekends, she and Hope would spend hours on the phone, discussing the things they learned and how to improve. She pushes the thought away, refusing to think of her older sister. She'd try to astral project when they went to the Mortal Lands. Without her grimoire, it would be hard. She'd have to go off the little she memorized and try to create her own or half-ass it enough that it worked. She swears she won't end up like this again. 

"Resurrection?" Rhysand asks, eyebrows raised. The extent of a witch's magic seemed to surprise them. Carmen sighs, "Implying I had a grimoire, yes. Though, I could try to blast someone's heart with magic. So, while I _could_ , I wouldn't recommend it happening without the proper tools. Try not to die, High Lord." Each time she said the words 'High Lord' there was a mocking edge to it. Something they each ignored while she, a nineteen-year-old mortal, could be their saving grace. The Nephelle Philosophy — or some shit. Rhysand let out a short chuckle, "Duly noted," He glanced at his wife and mate and Carmen knew, without a doubt, that should anything happen to her, Rhysand would rip her to shreds if she didn't destroy herself helping her. 

"What happens if they come for you before this is done?" Amren asks. 'They' means her family. Carmen stared at her blankly, "I'll go. I'm not going to choose to stay in this place to help you with a war I'm not involved in," 

"You'll go even if it means damning hundreds of innocents?" Cassian, the general, questions. Carmen grinds her teeth, "Why would I stay? Hybern isn't my problem nor is the Court politics. Each of you are grown adults, you'll have to figure it out yourself. It might seem cruel, I don't care, but I won't risk getting stuck here. Once Freya comes for me, I'm leaving. Until then, I'm at your service," Carmen rants before sucking in a sharp breath. "I don't know how time works. A hundred years here could be an hour back home," 

Feyre narrows her eyes at her. "That's—" 

"Would you risk it? Risk being torn away from everything you have? Your family and friends? All for something you never asked for? For something that _might not work_?" She throws back. She raises a hand, turning on her heels. "I'll be getting ready to leave," 

She wouldn't risk herself for anyone. 


	8. VIII. Lost Souls

Carmen smiles brightly, linking her arm through Lucien's. On their left hands were a simple ring, the black metal glittering in the sun. Lucien glanced around as if expecting someone to jump out and attack them. The town chittered around them, people nodding as they walked. She felt as if she was in a Victorian Era film. The only thing that was missing was the uncomfortable dress. Most of the smells burned her nose but the sour smell of sweat and the unfamiliar seasonings they used were the most notable.

Carmen leaned into Lucien as people walked, attempting her best to seem as if they were the happy newlywed couple they were pretending. The Mortal Lands seemed... dull compared to the Night Court. The people seemed livelier — as if they didn't know the threat of war loomed above them. "When's your birthday?" Carmen asks suddenly. Lucien glanced at her, his metal eye whirling. Which, if Carmen was completely honest, was fucking badass. She intended on asking about it the moment she got.

"Why?" He asks, giving her a sharp look. He was tenser than Carmen was which was understandable. He had so much more to lose while Carmen had nothing. She didn't have to worry about death — the moment she died, she'd wake up immortal. She gives him a dumb look, "You're a terrible spy. We're _married_ and the only thing I know about you is your last name,"

Carmen was curious about the ginger. She knew next to nothing about any of them (which was fine. She didn't want to get more involved than she had to be) but if she was going to spend the next foreseeable time with him, she wanted to know who she was dealing with. She'd hate to find he snored in his sleep or if he had terrible habits. Nothing annoyed her more than someone who chewed with their mouth open. Besides, she was getting lonely.

"November second," He replies. Rhysand had given them more than enough money to make this as easy as possible. They were going to the tavern at the end of town. Lucien was heavily glamoured, appearing as a mortal male. Since Carmen placed it, she could easily see through it. They hadn't wanted to risk anything. They needed an easy escape if things were to go wrong. Carmen thought that was a tad dramatic; she could protect both her and Lucien should anything go wrong. He didn't seem to believe her when she told him that.

"Ah, you're a fall baby. A Scoripo," She says, sighing in relief once she saw the tavern. "A _what_ baby?" He asks, baffled. "You know, the season? Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter," Lucien blinks at her, "You call it Fall? That—that is the worst thing I've ever heard," Carmen rolls her eyes, "Don't tell me you're one of those pretentious assholes that call it Autumn," She was secretly glad he was replying to her. For a moment, she was worried she'd be leading most of the conversations with minimal replies. "It isn't pretentious to call it by its name," He interjects. "When I was seven, this girl named Autumn called me Georgia all the time because she knew it wasn't my name. Now I refuse to call it that," She explains with a small shrug. "Besides, everyone in America calls it that,"

"From the little I know of you, that seems oddly in character," He opens the door, letting her step inside first. "Americans are weird," He adds. _Ever the doting husband,_ she thinks. She remembers Elain and the longing looks he kept on getting her. Were they married? Carmen heard Rhysand and Feyre refer to each other as 'mate' and she was fairly positive it wasn't in the Australian way. Could Lucien and Elain be mates? Carmen presumed it was, like, a sex thing. She doesn't mean to sound creepy and gross but were they something like breeding mates? The thought made her uncomfortable.

Carmen steps before the woman behind the counter. She places a hand on his arm, letting him place the coins on the counter. "Names?" She asks. Without hesitation, Carmen says, "Arizona Vanserra and this is my husband, Lucien Mikaelson," She says. Which, wasn't technically a lie? Her first name _was_ Arizona.

They're handed a set of keys. Carmen leads them to their room, finding one bed inside. "Huh," She says, placing her hands on her hips. "Maybe we should've said we were siblings,"

"Arizona?" Lucien simply asks, walking into the room. "Yeah," Carmen nods, "If you ever call me that, I'll gut you," He slides off his jacket, placing it over the back of the chair, "I'll sleep on the floor," He says. Carmen shakes her head, "No," Yeah, Carmen was an asshole but she'd feel _bad_ if she knew Lucien was sleeping on the floor. "I will,"

"No—" He says and Carmen cuts him off, "We're both sleeping in the bed. I'm fine with it — I can assure you that you won't compromise my purity or whatever," She waves her hand. "We have a long day tomorrow,"

Carmen ran a comb through her damp hair. "Are we even sure they'll be there?" Lucien asks. Carmen shakes her head, tucking her hair behind her ear as she slipped a pair of pants over her hips, Lucien getting dressed on the other side of the door. "Well, they're not going to be waiting for us — they're a goddamn _spy_ ,"

Carmen had done a spell that morning, leading them to the closest person who knew where Vassa was. "It was a premonition spell, Luce." She grunts when she nearly falls while putting her boots on. "Are you alright?" He asks, which she ignores. "I saw it through their eyes. Combining two spells."

She opens the door, Lucien nearly falling once she does. She stifles a chuckle as she makes sure they have everything they need. "And this will find Vassa?" He doesn't seem sure. Carmen swallows down a wave of annoyance. "Can you _stop_ doubting me for five seconds? I have yet to prove I'm incapable of doing magic," The words come off harsher than she meant. Carmen opens the door, leaving Lucien to follow her. They'd be better off without buying horses — that would bring more trouble than it was worth.

"My apologies, wife," He says. Carmen scowls and Lucien smiles. "You have no reason to believe in me. I get that but you questioning every decision because I'm female and look mortal is beyond annoying," She raises her hand, blocking the sunlight. "It's not because you're female," He says. "I don't know many witches,"

"Well, compared to me, they're pretty lackluster," Carmen says, moving towards the forest. Without horses, they'd be doing a ton of walking. Lucien snorts. "I think my sister would like you. You and Hope seem to enjoy getting on my nerves," He hums, one of his strides matching three of her own. The sunlight gleams in his hair and Carmen wants to run her fingers through it if only to see if it's as soft as it looks.

"Do you have a partner?" She asks. Lucien heaves a sigh, "It's complicated," Carmen throws her hand over her heart, "Here I thought I was the only woman in your life," They're nearly at the spot they can winnow without drawing attention. "Is it Elain?"

"We're mates," He says. Carmen stares at the grass ahead of them, "That means?"

"The Cauldron paired us. We—belong together," He explains, distance in his voice. "And she doesn't want you?" Carmen asks. "No," He says.

They don't speak for the rest of the way into the forest.

Carmen finds herself looking at the rundown cottage from her spell. They wait inside, a spell preventing anyone from hearing them. Most of the spells she knew consisted of things she learned specifically to be petty. Like, the premonition spells to find out where Hope would hide her diary. The seeing out of someone else's eyes because she liked to cheat during hide and seek and during tests during class. The noise-canceling spell because she and Hope liked to stay up longer than they were allowed.

Carmen misses Hope and her cousins. She misses how loud it would be during this time when _all_ the family would show up. _They'll come for you_ , she thinks. She doesn't doubt that but she wonders when. Will it be before this world is destroyed from war? Carmen isn't inclined to involve herself with it if she doesn't have to.

Carmen would prefer being here rather than listen to the war talks during the Night Court. Lucien grabs her arm to stop her pacing, asking, "How many siblings do you have?" Carmen stops to blink, "Why?" Lucien shrugs, his hand falling against his leg, "You're annoying. Getting you to talk is one way to stop you from burning a hole into the floor," Carmen grinds her teeth before answering.

"Just one. Her name is Hope. We ended up being born one day after each other so we would call ourselves twins," Carmen says, a small smile coming onto her lips. "How does that work?" Lucien asks. Carmen looks outside at the sun, an hour or two left before the spy will arrive. Carmen knows a spell for that, too. "My father impregnated two women around the same time. My mother and Hope's, _obviously_. It's said he didn't want either of us because he wasn't supposed to be able to have children. Vampires can't so Hope and I were—"

"Mistakes?" Lucien asks. Carmen rolls her eyes, "They refer to us as _happy accidents_. But that's why Hope is named Hope. She was the family's hope. The hope that my father would become a better person," Lucien listens before saying, "And you're named _Arizona_?"

"God, you know how to ruin a moment, don't you? Arizona is after my grandmother and the place she met her best friend. I hated it and began going by Carmen, which is my middle name."

She felt a jerk, snapping her head towards the door, muttering the invisibility spell. Carmen intended on letting Lucien take the reins during this. So, when the door opened and a cautious girl stepped inside, Carmen willed her magic to keep them inside. A simple boundary spell (that she _totally_ didn't learn simply to annoy her sister) should be the only thing they needed.

Stepping out of the shadows, Lucien says, "Hello," The girl jumps, flinging a knife towards _her._ Carmen raises her hand, the knife stopping in mid-air. She swats it away, clattering on the ground. "Come on now. That's now how you treat guests," She tuts, trying her best to impersonate her father. She'd heard him talk in his loud, pretentious voice before. How people would begin shaking ever so slightly. Carmen wants to feel powerful like that — but she isn't sure all that she'd do to earn it.

The girl spits something in another language, backing towards the door. She slams into a wall of nothing.

"Where is Vassa?" Carmen asks. The mousy girl only spits at her feet, Carmen looking down in disgust. Carmen, attempting to go the easy route with this, saying, "We're all going to die without her." She picks up a forgotten feather, running her finger down the edge. "Hybern wants to enslave us," Carmen would like to assure everyone that she's getting the hell out of dodge the second their chances begin looking like that. "I don't want that and neither do you. According to my mother, I don't know when to stop talking," Carmen cocks her head to the side. "Living under the faeries won't be fun,"

The girl juts her chin towards Lucien, weighing her words. "Then why are you with one?" Carmen blinks, not realizing she'd let the glamour drop during their previous conversation. Carmen hardly falters, used to pulling lies out of her ass at a moment's notice. She lies a hand on her flat stomach, "Lucien is... he's my lover. My confidant. The love of my life — I cannot imagine a day without him. He isn't like them," The muscle in his cheek twitches, laughter threatening to spill over.

"I need to find Vassa. I need her help," Carmen says. "Will you help me?"

"How many coins do you have?" She questions, looking at their fine clothes and meaty flesh. "Depends on how good your answers are," Lucien says. "Now talk," 


	9. IX. Rumor Has It

The only thing left behind from the girl was ash. Lucien, guilt lined his face, didn't utter a word as he dragged the body outside before flicking his fingers, the body bursting into flame. Carmen rolls her eyes once Lucien says, "You didn't need to do that," Carmen remembers her head jerking harshly once Carmen twisted her hand, the air tinging with magic. "Yes, I did. She told everything she knew after being offered money. Do you think she won't do the same about a red-haired faerie and a human girl with magic? Who are looking for Vassa?"

Maybe she was being pessimistic but she'd rather not have a hundred assassins after them. Carmen wasn't sure she'd keep her magic upon becoming immortal — she'd rather not figure it out here. Hope would know what to do. She was always good at that. When they were younger, it would annoy her to no end. Carmen would mockingly call her _Hero Hope._ "Are you going to kill me the first time I inconvenience you? Would you give me the honor of burning or leave the crows to pick at me?" Lucien questions. Her nails dig into her hands, threatening to draw blood. "You'll find out if you don't shut up," She threatened. She had no intention of following through on that. As previously mentioned, she _liked_ Lucien for some ungodly reason.

Lucien mocked a laugh, stepping in front of her. She saw the desperation in his eyes — even the metal one. The kind she'd seen in people who thought they had no other choice. Marcel had taught Carmen how to read people; if they were following her, watching her, or simply not aware of a thing called personal space. He taught her to read their eyes, look for any tics. "You're scared, aren't you?" She thinks back to Elain and how his tone had changed, how he looked at Azriel with a certain level of despise. "Scared no one will ever want you. I mean, if you don't find Vassa, what good are you? A failed emissary bouncing from Court to Court because no one _wants_ you?" She knew she was crossing a line as she said it but she couldn't help herself.

Both were tense, being given next to nothing. Both were looking to take their anger out on the other. The only thing they _did_ gather was that there was a sea and a wall involved? Vassa was a fucking firebird— why would she be around a sea?

Lucien's eyes narrowed, his voice becoming steel, "Have you wondered why you're still here? Perhaps you're the unwanted one. You're a bastard—" Carmen bites her tongue, wishing she hadn't spoken so fondly of Hope. Something must've shown in her eyes because Lucien's eyes fell, regretting his words. "What year is it? Nineteen fifty?" She asks, rolling her eyes. She couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to his words. She'd been here for a few weeks.

 _No,_ a voice reassures her, _Klaus is coming_.

The twigs snap under her feet, Lucien finally saying, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Carmen felt a swell of frustration. She'd said _worse_ to him and he was apologizing? Carmen doesn't bother looking at him or speaking, nodding her head. She wasn't good at giving an apology. It was her mortal flaw — pride and stubbornness. To her, apologizing had felt like she failed somewhere along the way. _You did_ , she thinks.

"I shouldn't have spoken about things I know nothing about—" She says. "You shouldn't have," He agrees. "I want you, you know," Carmen sucks in a sharp breath. "If I had to choose anyone from the Night Court to go trekking through an unknown continent with looking for a cursed queen, I'd want it to be you,"

Lucien's eyes scrunched in confusion, "You don't know anyone else," Carmen thinks, _Can't you take the freaking compliment?_ Outloud she says, "Cassian would give me a headache. Azriel would refuse to talk. Amren is... Amren. Nesta would bite my head off the second I suggest she sleep on the floor. Rhys is a cocky bastard and I think I'd have to spend the entire time listening to Feyre talk about Rhys. Elain is too nice, I'd feel bad. I'd like to be with Mor, though. So, yes, I am sorry for saying those things to you,"

Her hands curled, ignoring the way humiliation burned in her chest. Carmen doesn't mean to seem like a girl raised without manners — she'd never go into a store and torment the workers — but apologizing to her family for the things she'd done wrong was different than doing it with _him_. That was vulnerability.

Lucien shrugs it off — almost as if he'd long accepted people saying cruel things to him. Words tighten up in her throat, feeling like an absolute _bitch_. She didn't even know why — she's said worse things to people without the feeling of suffocation afterward. "No, no. I am sorry. I didn't mean it," She hated the kicked-puppy look in his eyes. Is this how her father felt about Caroline? She _hoped_ not.

"Let's just forget it," He says.

She doesn't think she can do that.

Carmen sat against a tree, playing back everything the girl had said. North, she said. She claimed that was the only thing she knew — which was true when Carmen did a truth spell. They were back to square one; attempting to avoid spies, soldiers, and people who would sell them out the first chance she got.

Did white oak trees exist in Prythian? Did vervain or wolfsbane? Even if it did, she thought it was unlikely to be used against her. They didn't know what vampires or werewolves were. The closest thing to the latter was a shifter — like Tamlin — and faebane wouldn't affect her. She had to remind herself that no one here held anything against her. Carmen Mikaelson was indestructible, right? She was prophecized to destroy an entire city alongside her sister. She was a Mikaelson witch, Original vampire, and werewolf rolled into one.

That would make her defeat so much lovelier, wouldn't it? Nothing, not even a tribrid, could live forever. Nature would never let something be that powerful. Momentarily, she thinks about how _alike_ vampires and faeries are. It's nearly humorous.

Lucien lets out a sigh in annoyance, sitting beside her, "What are you thinking about? You keep making noises," Carmen glances at him, knocking her knee against his. "Just about how pissed I'd be if I died here," She'd hate to think of the destruction that Klaus would cause. Klaus would make Hybern's attack on Velaris look like child's play. "And I am _not_ making noises,"

The stars shine above them and she's hit with the sudden realization that a full moon was coming up. Her face falls. She couldn't imagine the dread that would begin to fill her at the sight of the moon. Something she used to find so lovely. "A full moon is coming," She says. Lucien stares blankly, "Which means?"

"I'm a werewolf — we're bound to the moon," Carmen explains. She thinks back to the absent Lucien during each time she spoke with the others about what she was. She snorts, "Each bone in my body will break when the moon reaches its apex,"

"That's..." Lucien says. Carmen grabs his hand, wishing she had black nail polish. She ran her thumb over the back of his hand, simply out of boredom. "Werewolves have been dealing with it since they got cursed,"

"A cursed girl searching for a cursed queen," Lucien muses. She leans her head back, "Are you cursed?"

"Some would say,"

"Why would some say that?" She asks with more intrigue than she intended. Lucien, for some odd reason, _trusts_ her. Yeah, she might be more brass and louder than he was used to but he didn't think of her as someone who would _betray_ him. Carmen Mikaelson seemed as though this was her world that she _allowed_ the others to live in. "I fell in love once and I thought she was my mate. Jesminda was... everything. She was lowborn, too. My father thought I had sullied our name by bedding her. So, he tortured her. Forced me to denounce her then executed her before my eyes while my elder brothers helped. I escaped then fled to the Spring Court — two had come after me and we — Tamlin and I — killed them," Lucien explained.

Carmen felt her throat dry. What she said earlier about how he had to bounce from Court to Court had struck a nerve because he felt it was true. She cursed herself. "Is your father still alive?" She asked. Lucien nodded. "Do you want to kill him? I can do that,"

"He's a High Lord," Lucien interrupts. "So? I'm a _tribrid_. If I want your father dead, he'll be dead. What happened to Jesminda wasn't your fault," Carmen says. Lucien doesn't reply so Carmen gently grabs his jaw and looks him in the eyes, "You couldn't control what happened. You could spend the rest of your life thinking you could've done something differently. That if you'd just been _stronger,_ none of it would've happened. You'll be doing nothing but making yourself suffer,"

"Maybe that's what I deserve," He says. Carmen grinds her teeth, "No, you don't. Youhad your girlfriend killed in front of you because your father is a vile person. When I was fifteen, I was dating someone. My father, Klaus, is easily comparable to your Amarantha — to some, they'd say he was worse. After a thousand years, he's gained enemies everywhere he went. My girlfriend, Lexie, and I had been together for a few months. I'd begin to think that I loved her... Long story short, she'd been harmed and there was nothing I could do about it but watch. For the longest time, I thought it was my fault. Did you try to protect her?" Lucien nods. "Then you _did_ all you could. Now, the only thing you can do is avenge her and never forget her,"

Lucien wipes away a stray tear, "Is Lexie dead?" Carmen shakes her head, "No. My father rescued us in time but he compelled her to forget any memory of me." Carmen hadn't forgiven Klaus for that. There was no point in arguing about it, though. Lexie had been hurt once because of her and she wasn't willing to risk it more. "Compelled?" Lucien asks. "Vampires can compel someone to do something or forget things. They don't have a choicebut to do it. It's unethical but..."

"Like daemati,"

"We can't read minds but you could compel someone to tell you things like that. I've heard of vampires going into minds, though. The whole thing is complicated," Carmen says.

Lucien glances at her, "I suppose that if I had to choose someone to go with, it _would_ be you," Carmen grins at him before turning back towards the sky. 


	10. X. Fallen From The Stars

Carmen sits in the square,watching as the children ran around, touching each other before bolting in the opposite direction, laughing and squealing as they did. The village they were residing in held people who were unaware or unaffected by the upcoming war. Soon, if Carmen and Lucien didn't find the Queen, they would be in chains, their village nothing but rubble.

A boy of six sheepishly walked up to her, handing her a white flower. "For you," He says, shoving it into her hand. Carmen smiles, taking it and making a show of enjoying its scent. "For me? Why thank you!" The boy flushed, his ears and cheeks turning pink. "I'll savor it," She replied, placing the flower over her ear. The boy _beams_ at her, running back towards his mother. Carmen leans against the back of the big, white rock, the children bringing up happy memories from her childhood. She and Hope had each other and they'd been _fine_ with that.

Ophelia and Hayley had done their best when raising them. Hell, if Carmen had been in those circumstances, she doesn't know how well she would've done. If she'd been Ophelia — a girl who hadn't known the supernatural existed until she'd been kidnapped by witches and told she was carrying a fucking _tribrid_ baby — she doesn't think she would've made the best choices. She loves her mother more than she loves anyone. Ophelia, who'd picked Carmen up when she'd fallen into a bush while learning how to ride a bike. She'd wiped the gravel from her knees when she ate dirt while learning to skateboard. She has done everything in her power to make sure she and Hope grew up happy and healthy. Hayley had done the same. Klaus, Hayley, and Ophelia were her parents — even if Hayley hadn't birthed her. It was the same for Hope.

Carmen would like to do that someday. Raise a child from nothing — watch as they become _someone_. Watch as they grow and flourish. She wants to experience all the heartache and joy that comes with being a parent. She wants to teach them everything she knows and watch them make their own mistakes. She wants to wake up with them on Christmas morning, watching as they eagerly open their presents. She wants to take them trick-or-treating in their Halloween costumes. Not anytime soon, though. She's immortal — she wants to experience everything life has to offer thrice over before she settles down and has kids. She pictures herself having two; one with curling red hair and the other brunette.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Lucien sit beside her, his red hair curling over his white tunic. "What are you doing?" He asks, his eyes full of sleep. He must've come looking for her after finding the bed empty. "Nothing," She says, "Thinking." When they began this, anytime she saw the red hair from the corner of her eye, she thought of Hope. The ginger hair Hope had when they were younger had faded to a brown, almost. In the sunlight, you could see it was red. Lucien's was as if it was colored by fire itself. Looking at it used to fill her with a warmth only because he reminded her of Hope. Now, it brings her warmth for an entirely different reason. "We should get moving," Lucien murmurs.

Carmen leans forward, a smile (that wasn't so forced anymore) spreading across her lips as they ghosted along the shell of his ear. To anyone, it would look like a woman whispering sweet nothings into her lover's ear. "I can do another spell. Though, I don't think we'll get anywhere," Lucien shivered once she pulled away. She absentmindedly fiddled with the ends of his hair, wrapping it around her fingers then back again. "We should find a way to get ahold of Rhysand," He mutters, glancing down when Carmen crosses her legs over his lap. "Must you?"

"Yes," Carmen replies, cocking her head to the side, "Is that a problem, husband?" Lucien rolls his eyes. Carmen enjoyed their game more than she should've, honestly. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that if she _did_ find Vassa, she'd be remembered. If she helped end the war with Hybern, she'd get remembered. Even if it isn't in her world, she won't get lost among the other poor saps. Being Klaus Mikaelson's daughter would have nothing to do with it, either. She'd remembered for what _she'd_ done.

"We should get going," Lucien says, watching her every breath. Pecking his cheek, only stopping once she'd realized what she'd done, she stood then began walking towards their room to collect their things.

+++

  
"So, tell me about the Spring Court," Carmen states, glad for her werewolf genes as they began walking up a steep hill. Lucien stammers out his response, "Why?" Carmen glances back at him, brown eyes trained on him. "Aren't I allowed to be curious? You never talk about it,"

"Did you ever think it was for good reason?" He asks. Carmen steadies him when he nearly slips on wet grass. The forest was alive around them, the bugs buzzing while the birds sang overhead. It smelt like the Bayou. Carmen breathed in, oddly calm and content for the time being. It should've unnerved her more. Mikaelson's hardly went unbothered for long periods. Be it old enemies, friends, or family, something was always happening. Cursed since the day they became immortal, Carmen often mused if it was their sacrifice — they'll live a long life but not a happy one. Or maybe they've been damning themselves the whole time.

"Well, yes. I understand that the sound of my voice is angelic but that doesn't mean I want to hear it all the time," Carmen mockingly states. "And I want to know more about you,"

"Why?" He asks. Carmen is silent for a moment, "Because we're _friends_ ," Or, at least she thought they were. You don't tell people you're simply acquaintances with about the worst day of your life unless you're in a bar at three in the morning. The large trees hid most of the sun and Carmen was thankful for. The summer heat had begun to boil. She suspected her feet would blister if she were to walk on the concrete.

Carmen brings the canteen to her lips, swallowing deeply. "I don't want to talk about it," He says. "That's fine. I never meant to make you feel like you had to," She replies. Carmen doesn't even know why she _cares_. She and Lucien are from different _worlds_ — they couldn't be together. No, but he could be _fun_.

Once the moon replaces the sun, they find a camp. Tents cluster in the woods, a fire now dimming being the only sign that people were there. "This isn't right," Carmen says, straining her hearing. She doesn't hear anything besides the crickets chirping and a few animals deep into the woods. "We shouldn't be here," Lucien glances at her as if to make sure she wouldn't get ambushed. Or fall into the fire, maybe.

"No," Carmen insists. "We could find something here,"

"Like?" He asks. "I don't know. Anything—" Lucien cuts her off, shushing her. "Do you hear that?" He asks, his metal eye whirling. Carmen squints, "Uh, _no_?" She doesn't hear anything. Could Lucien see something in his eye? It was magical, right? Carmen tenses, nose scrunching once a growl escapes her mouth. Something in her began racing, adrenaline spiking. "We—we've fallen into a trap, haven't we?" She lets out a sharp breath.

Lucien pulls his sword, Carmen pulling her magic to the surface. "Get ready to run," He says. Carmen shakes her head — either pridefulness or stubbornness — "No. We kill them. They know we're here, okay. Now we take care of it,"

"That's noble," A man says as he walks into the camp, pointed ears sticking out of his curtain of hair. "My king would like to know who, exactly, killed his spy. And why..." A cruel smirk comes across his lips upon seeing Carmen look entirely mortal. Carmen nor Lucien noticed the girl from the cottage looking anything but human. She would've _sensed_ the glamour. "Now, _who_ might you be?"

Lucien stepped in front of her, "That's none of your concern," Carmen glanced at him before setting her sights on the man before them. "Carmen— now, who are _you_?" She left the boredom in her voice. He looks behind them, jerking his chin. "Vikander," He states. Carmen rolls her eyes, aware of the men sneaking up behind them. She cursed herself for being so _stupid_. Her blood boiled, her temper rising. She'd tear them apart. She'd leave _nothing_ left of them besides heartless corpses. She'd let the animals feast on their flesh.

She raised her hand, jerking it. The one sneaking behind her had their neck snapped at an awkward angle, the bones jutting out from a thin layer of skin. Both Lucien and Vikander flinched at the loud sound — which sounded like fire popping.

"My, my. What _are_ you? My king will certainly enjoy you," Vikander tells them, a growl coming from Lucien. Carmen laughs, "I'll tear your king to pieces. I'll shatter every bone in his body. I'll _boil_ him alive from the inside out. Then, when nothing remains, I'll eat his heart," A predatory smile graces her face. No one in her family would blame her for what happened next. It was gory, yes, but they threatened her first. Carmen wasn't inclined to hurt innocents or children. She _wouldn't_. These faeries, though? They were _fair game_.

Carmen clenches her fist, another faerie behind them screaming as they dropped to their knees. Blood and brain leaked out from their ears. " _Oops_ ," Carmen says. A shield tightens around Vikander. She pushes Lucien aside slightly. _No one_ would hurt him while she was alive. They were friends, after all. Mikaelson's took care of their own.

She was Klaus Mikaelson's daughter. Now, it was time for her to act like it. Carmen turns around, flicking her wrist. She murmurs a spell, " _Incendia_ ," The faerie burst into flames, screaming as he burned. Lucien looked on, his eyes wide.

Carmen was too wholly focused on the last one, didn't notice Vikander loading a crossbow — not until the bolt found a home in her throat. Lucien let out a snarl, turning onto him. There, as Lucien fought the Commander with utter rage, Carmen bled into the grass. Carmen grabbed it, yanking with the last of her strength. As the back end of the arrow sliced through her flesh, she let out a gurgled scream.

Lucien, having burned her rest of the camp and Vikander, came to her. His eyes shone with tears. _"No, no,"_ He cries, hand coming to rest over her throat. She couldn't speak. She wasn't afraid — she'd be back in a few hours. This time more powerful than she'd been before.

She wanted to say that, beg him _not_ to burn her body. She couldn't — not as her heart slowed to a stop. 


	11. XI. Fire's Running Low

Lucien's forehead pressed against her own, warm tears trickling from his face to her own. Her eyes flickered open, her mouth practically wateringat the smell of blood tinging the air. "Luce—" She began, gently pushing her off him. Lucien froze, pulling away with wide eyes. "How? I—I thought you were _dead_ ," His voice sounds raw. Carmen shrugged, "I'm a _tribrid_. I told you this. I'm—I'm _immortal_ now,"

Everything had seemed different. The sounds were louder, the colors brighter, and the scents were stronger. She could hear a stream trickling. The sound of twigs breaking under a deer's feet. She shakily pulled herself up. She hadn't felt stronger. She felt dazed and confused like she woke up after a week-long bender. Carmen rubs her face, pausing when she spotted Lucien. She could see each strand of his hair, the soft freckles dotting his face. The lines of his scarring, the fine details of his metal eye. She heard his heart pounding under his shirt.

"Blood. I need blood," Carmen says, turning around. Her face heated. Why was she like this? She had heard Rebekah talk about the transition once. Her magic was still there, feeling slightly muted. Not gone, though. She would be glad to tell Hope that. _Hope,_ she thought, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest, feeling much stronger than before. "Why?" Lucien asks. Carmen looks at him, "Vampires have to drink it. It's how they— _we_ survive. Without it, they desiccate." Carmen explained quietly. She brought her hand up to her throat, finding cool blood there. She froze when Lucien grabbed her arm softly, fangs bursting painfully from her gums. Carmen threw herself against the nearest tree, something cracking. " _Stop._ I don't want to hurt you,"

Everything inside her screamed for her to tear into his soft flesh and drink. She shook her head, pushing those thoughts away. _Why do you care, Carmen?_ She wanted to ask herself. Carmen hardly cared about anything besides those closest to her. Vampire's emotions were supposed to be heightened — shouldn't that make her give less of a shit? Not _more_?

"Drink mine," Lucien says. "No," Carmen replied immediately. If she couldn't stop herself...

"You'll die —desiccate? — without it. If you need to drink, then drink it," Lucien tells her. Carmen glanced down at the skeletons, nothing left inside them. Lucien had destroyed the entire camp upon thinking she died, leaving nothing but them behind. The surrounding trees had nearly been burnt to a crisp. "Fine," Carmen says.

She didn't come this far to die.

She stepped towards him, his feet rooted to the stop. She wondered if he was regretting this. "Just snap my neck if I don't stop," She tells him. Lucien recoils, his mouth agape, "What? _No!"_ Carmen reached around, pulling all his hair to one side. "We're not like you. If we die, we come back. Mostly."

"Mostly?" He asks. Carmen shrugged, "Mostly,"

Her fangs came down, the veins bursting under her eyes. Her vision became _clearer_. Carmen tilted his head, the motions slow. She looked at him, locking eyes before she sunk her teeth into his neck. Lucien groaned, hand coming up behind her head. "Fuck," He whispered. Carmen hardly heard him. It tasted _amazing_. It was as if she'd been drinking stars — nothing in her life had felt this _good_.

She understood how some vampires ended up being rippers.

It took a great effort in self-control to pull away. Carmen had always gotten what she wanted. Money hadn't ever been an issue. Due to the... circumstances of her childhood, Hayley and Ophelia gave the two girls what they liked. She could have Lucien if she wanted. She could drain him dry. _No_ , she thought. _I don't want that_.

So, Carmen Mikaelson pulled away, wiping away the streak of blood with her thumb. She panted, Lucien's eye dilating. "Thank you," She whispered.

"Of course," Lucien replied.

Carmen Mikaelson was destined for something. Hope was, too. Hope Mikaelson had destroyed the thing that was the greatest threat to supernatural creatures _ever_. Something for Carmen could either be good or bad. She didn't believe that bullshit about people being born inherently good or evil.

Take Kai Parker, for example. How would he have turned out if his family hadn't shunned him for being a Siphoner? If they hadn't taken the one place he was supposed to feel safe and made it hellish for him? Carmen had been raised to be _good_. She was raised without the burden of being what she was. Her cockiness had come from the mannerisms she'd seen her father have. The knowing that she was indestructible. Physically, anyway. Anything could be hurt emotionally.

Maybe that's why she had an obsession with being great. How fucking _lame_ would it be if she, one of two of her kind, had failed to do anything memorable? Everyone in her family would be remembered for something. Her father, Klaus, admittedly not for good things. Rebekah, Elijah, and Kol for being the first vampires. Freya for being a badass witch. Hope for destroying Malivore. Hayley was a Labonair. Her mother would be forgotten, though. Ophelia tended to stay out of everything as long as she could.

"What was it like?" He asks. "Death?" Carmen questioned. "Well, I was in transition. It's different. It's dark until you wake," The bed dipped beside her, "But if you're asking for Jesminda, she's found peace. I know it,"

"How do you know that?"

"I don't think anyone you loved could be bad," Carmen replied. "The way you speak of her. Besides, my grandmother found peace — and she was quite terrible," Lucien snorts softly beside her, his breath on her shoulder as he tried to get comfortable on the stiff bed. Her heart picked up slightly.

"We can go north tomorrow. We know Hybern has been looking for us. He must know about the Queen," Carmen says. "Not necessarily. He could've easily been staking out the human realms to see how they were reacting to this upcoming war. They heard us and attacked. I'm the son of the Autumn Court, they'd probably picked up on that,"

"They're all dead, right?" Carmen asks. The last thing they needed was for the king to know about Carmen and what she could do. Though, if _one_ escaped, they'd think she was dead. "Yeah," Lucien replies.

"I can't wait to get home and take a decent shower," Carmen mutters. It had taken hours to untangle her matted hair in the tubs. She was certain her hair would begin breaking off. Even if she hadn't had the exact spell, if she channeled everything (short of dying) inside her towards cleaving a portal back to her world, she could? Bonnie Bennett had done amazing things with her magic. Carmen could channel both her vampire and werewolf side.

"What do you plan on doing once this war is over?" Carmen asks. Lucien sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. After the Spring Court, I don't think I have a place anywhere,"

"I mean, you could always come to my world for some time," Carmen states before she realized what she said. Both of them froze, Carmen coughing, "Uh, well, _obviously_ you don't _have_ to," Carmen tries telling herself she doesn't _care_ about the faerie lying beside her. That she simply pitied him. She didn't, though, did she?

"You don't mean that," He says. Carmen _wasn't_ joking. "What? Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life —my immortal life — around my sister? Besides, I do enjoy your company,"

"You're just saying that," He whispers, "I'm sure you can find someone else to spend that time with,"

"If I don't want anyone else? Sure, your conversation skills are _lacking_ but I don't mind them. I can talk enough for the both of us," Carmen says, turning towards him. Lucien lies on his back, saying, "Go to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us,"

Carmen can only _admit_ that she has grown fond of him when the rejection stings more than she thought it would. 


	12. XII. Three Faced Wolf

"Are you _sure_?" Lucien asks. Carmen closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, stating, "Have I been wrong before?" Dealing with her new senses was harder than she would ever admit. She heard _everything_ from the steady beating of Lucien's heart, to the blood coursing through his veins, to the ticking of his metal eye. Everything she felt was so much _stronger_. She'd become easily irritated and annoyed and for a vampire, that could be _deadly_.

Carmen could handle it, though. She'd handle anything that was thrown her way. Carmen was a _Mikaelson_ — she'd deal with it.

"No," Lucien says immediately, "It's impossible for someone to always be right," He says easily. "Look, I don't know if this spell will work. I butchered the hell out of it and I'd only heard it done once and I only remember because the incident was fucking traumatic," Carmen explains. "If I am wrong, don't mention it,"

Lucien shoves his hands into his pocket, grinning at her, "Carmen Mikaelson being wrong? _Admitting_ she's wrong? That's a first," Carmen rolls her eyes, clicking her tongue, "Well, fuck me, I suppose," Lucien raises his eyebrows, "Are you offering?" Carmen chuckles, "Are you?"

The terrain was lumpy, the large rocks nearly making her trip. The salty ocean air reminded her of kinder times when she wasn't traveling through unknown territory that was on the verge of being enslaved by a few pointy-eared pricks. It reminded her of when Klaus had been brought back and their family woke from their enchanted sleep. He'd taken Hope and Carmen to a beach and let them eat enough candy to make them sick. He'd looked at his daughters with nothing but adoration.

She was naive enough to believe that children made everyone kinder. Some people were past the point of saving that they treated their children as possessions and not living, breathing creatures with their thoughts and opinions. Like Beron Vanserra, who was nothing but a fucking prick. Carmen vowed to kill him.

"What do you plan on doing when you end up home?" Lucien questions. Carmen shrugged, "I was serious when I wanted to know if you wanted to come. I get it if you said no because your life is here but you said no because you thought I was pitying you or some shit. I _wasn't_. I enjoy your company," She says. Lucien grinds his teeth, eyes flickering with sadness, "Firstly, how do I support myself? You said the alphabet wasn't even the same," Lucien says. "Secondly, I don't want you to... tire of me,"

Carmen steps on a rock, turning to look at him. Lucien looked at her uneasily, almost as if he worried about her falling and cracking her skull open. It was hard for him to shake the feelings he had with her kind. The weak, defenseless feelings. Carmen was neither of those things. "Mikaelson's are rich. I'd take care of you," Carmen says. "Someone will teach you how to read. You'll be fine,"

"I'm not letting you do that," Lucien says, his cheeks tinting red. Carmen scoffs, "Oh my _god_ , Luce. It's not like I'm asking you to clean the fucking sewers. I have money and a home. I would like to share those things with you. Like, my father might threaten you but I'll beat his ass," Carmen pauses. Realistically, she was stronger than her father now. She was stronger than _everyone_. Once she got her magic under control, she'd be, like, invincible. Wasn't that why the witches tried to kill her? Like, the only person who could beat her ass would be Hope.

"You will _not_ fight your father for me," Lucien says. "Sure I will," Carmen says, "Mikaelon's are jackasses. Sometimes we need to get beat up. Everyone in my family had to die then get resurrected at least four times to become tolerable," Carmen explains. Kol Mikaelson was decent now. Still insane but tolerable. She wonders how much Klaus becoming decent had to do with that. "Huh — I can tell," Lucien mocks.

Carmen blinks, cocking her head to the side, "I was _murdered._ Have some _sympathy_ ," Lucien rolls his eyes, "Would you like me to coddle you? Sing you to sleep?" Carmen runs her tongue over her teeth, "Okay, _jackass_ ," Carmen hops down from the rock, steadying herself against Lucien's arm.

"Just think about it, okay? I swear to the Cauldron or whatever that I won't throw you away the second I get annoyed. You're not expendable," Carmen tells him. Why did she care? She didn't know. Lucien opened his mouth, stopping in his tracks, "Cauldron," He says, "What is _that_?" Carmen whirls around, facing the ocean and slowly, the boats had crossed into her line of vision, over a large mountain. "Holy hell," Carmen breathed, "Is that Hybern?" She asked. They were so _fucked_ if that was the case.

Lucien stepped forward, cupping his hand over his eyes to block the sunlight. "No. No. It's not," He smiles, stepping forward. "Is that a _firebird_?" Carmen asks. She wanted to know the curse that was used. One that was nearly untraceable — she'd like to know in case she never needed to use it. Carmen couldn't describe the joy she felt when she saw the boats. God, how she missed sleeping on a decent mattress. How she missed having decent food. Lucien grabbed her arm and winnowed.

Carmen stumbled when she landed on the boat, Lucien grabbing her arm to make sure she hadn't fallen. A man stepped forward, "Who the hell are you?" He asks. His ears poked through his hair, "Are you fighting against Hybern?" Carmen asked. She realized how terrible this would be if they _were_ Hybern. "Who is asking?" A woman with dark skin — who looked nearly human — questions, her arms crossed over her dark leather.

Carmen muttered a spell, a simple shield appearing around her and Lucien. "We're here on behalf of the High Lord of the Night Court," Lucien says. "We're looking for Vassa,"

The man steps forward, "You've come to the right place. He motions for them to follow after taking their weapons. Carmen didn't carry any — she was a weapon ready to strike. She hadn't needed to. "Jasper Archeron is leading the frontlines," The woman, Myriam, explains. Feyre didn't mention that. She glances at Carmen, "I wasn't aware humans resided in the Night Court," Carmen shrugged, "Well, I _fell_ into the Night Court, you know? I'm not quite human, either, I suppose," Carmen tells her.

She doesn't feel threatened by the other. Sure, Myriam could flatten her the moment she decided to. Maybe it was relief at things seemingly working out. "Tell me what's happened," Myriam says. "I'm not sure what's exactly happened with Hybern. Other than them being the worst country here," Carmen explains. Myriam takes her into a room, giving her a soft smile. "We never intended for our home to be hidden _that_ well. Just from those who wanted to do us harm. We came the second we got wind,"

"You shouldn't feel bad about doing what you had to do to keep your people safe. I'm not certain what's going on in Prythian — but you're helping. Which is more than anyone else can say," Carmen tells her.

The next few hours are a blur, eventually, Carmen and Lucien are given a room. Neither had the heart to explain that they weren't married. Carmen sits on the bed, her hair wet from her shower. "I can't believe we found them,"

"What did I tell you?" Carmen says, cockiness in her voice. "I was right. Admit it," Carmen pokes him in the ribs. "I _was_ right," Lucien doesn't bother hiding his grin, "You were right," Then, he kisses her. It lasted only a second, his lips hardly brushing against her own. Lucien sucks in a breath as her eyes darken considerably.

Carmen's heart pounded in her chest, cupping his face with her hands and pressing her lips against his. Her hands find the bottom of his shirt, tugging on the end, "Are you sure?" Carmen asks. "If not, that's fine," Lucien's teeth graze against her jaw, fingers sliding under her shirt and ghosting along her ribs. "Do you?" He asks. Carmen nods, leaning into him.

He tears her shirt in two. Carmen repays the favor. 


	13. XIII. I Have Become Death

The battle was in full swing by the time Carmen, Lucien, and their allies arrived. Blood, sweat, and magic hung in the air. Their blades and magic sang when they hit each other, urging them to fight harder. Carmen found Lucien, pressing her lips to his. "Don't _die_ ," She says, swinging one leg over the side of the boat that had docked. The chest armor Myriam had found for her glimmered in the sun — Carmen tried to explain that she wouldn't need it. Myriam simply scoffed and told to _wear the damned thing_. "Where are you _going?_ " Lucien asks, grabbing her arm. "I'm going to be a Mikaelson," She said. Lucien stared blankly at her, unsure of what to say. If you didn't know the Mikaelson's personally, you wouldn't either. Then, she was kneeling in the sand, pushing herself to stand.

The predator in her sighed in relief. The monster that had been caged since she became immortal whispered praises. _Kill them all_ , they whispered. Carmen was happy to oblige.

There was no rhyme or rhythm of her attacks. Some she used her magic, some pure strength, while the others she tore fangs into necks, quickly snapping the bones. _Go, go, go,_ the monster whispered. It was hard to tell friend from foe, each of them looked the same.

A slither of her hoped she would come across Lucien's family. Tear them apart and if questioned, state that it was an _accident_. That her bloodlust couldn't decipher who was who. It was partly true. Her heart pounded and for a brief moment, she _understood_ Klaus' years of madness. The power she felt was _incredible_. She felt as if she were at the top of the world.

Some fought back, of course. Her hair was pulled back to reveal rounded ears. Most hardly noticed her blood-soaked flesh and pants. They just _grinned_ before attacking. Most times, Carmen returned to her human-looking state only to watch the horror don on them. Carmen's flesh was torn, healing before another part of her ripped open. She welcomed the pain. She was, after all, a Mikaelson.

Tearing into their armor was easy though it left keep gashes on her hand and arms where the metal sliced into it. " _Carmen_?" Someone asked. Carmen whirled, her fangs retracting and the veins under her eyes disappearing. The golden returned to a chocolate brown. "Azriel," Carmen breathed. "Hey,"

"What are you doing?" He questioned. Carmen clenched her fist, the woman behind him dying, her blade dropping into the blood-soaked earth. "Fighting. What does it look like? We found Vassa. Well, they found us, really,"

Azriel pulled a blade, handing her it. "I don't need it," Carmen shook her head. "Take the damned thing," He growled. She took it, watching as Azriel swung his sword again and again, taking those down around him. She dragged her hand down her mouth, her hand soaked with silver, red, and black blood. Fucking faeries.

Her fangs burst out of her gums, grabbing a handful of hair and clamping down on their neck, warm blood filled her mouth, which she swallowed greedily. _You are a Mikaelson,_ the predators sang, _you are a_ tribrid _. Act like it_.

Somehow, Carmen moved away from Azriel, using the blade if only to appease him or his shadows. She ended up near a forest, where the fighting had become nearly non-existent. Carmen had never felt more alive. _Fight, fight, fight_ , she thought. Perhaps it was because if they lost, no harm would come to her. Her world wouldn't be lost. She didn't know anyone dying in the mud. They were nameless corpses — Hybern or Prythian, it never mattered to her. They were all the same. If she died, she would wake before the battle was won. Truly, Carmen herself wasn't in danger. But... there was no telling what monsters lurked in the army. There was no telling what weapons the King had.

She'd only grieve Lucien. The others could _burn_ and she wouldn't care. Well, was that true? She didn't know. She did remotely like Azriel and Elain.

Carmen let out a blast of power — the kind that young witches do when they're frightened and accidentally use their magic. A man appeared before her, taking her in before saying, "You aren't what I was looking for. Where is the girl?" Carmen stares blankly. " _Who_?" She asks. "The one who _stole_ from me," He clarifies but that had done little. She steps forward, her eyes glowing. "I don't _care_ ," She says. The man flicks his fingers — and Carmen slams into a tree, her vision blurring. She let out several curses. "My, what _are_ you?" He asks. Carmen threw her hand forward, attempting to snap his neck. He raised a hand, chuckling, "You aren't one of us. No, no. I'd _love_ to see what you're made of. Once this is over, I will,"

Another hand movement and a scream rip its way from her throat. The bone of her arm is sticking out, the white stark against the dirt and blood flowing. Another one once it snaps into place, the skin forming over it. The man — the _King_ — watched with interested eyes. "My, my," He says, forcing her onto her knees with his magic. He takes quick steps towards her, grabbing her by the jaw and cupping her face. He closes his eyes, his hands warming slightly. "I can feel the magic within you. It's raw — unfiltered. Tell me, scum, how did you attain this?" Her nails extend into claws and in a quick motion, she slashes at his hands.

The King kicks her center, resting his foot on her chest plate, "Tell me why I should let you live?" Right then, Carmen didn't feel so invincible as she squirmed and kicked in the mud. She was a tribrid, yes, but she was also _new_ to this. The others she had taken by surprise. They hadn't expected her. The King _felt_ her magic as if it were his own.

Carmen growled, grabbing him by the knee and squeezing until she heard a snap. His boot collided with her face, blood spraying. "Feral little beast," He says. Carmen rolls over, standing. "You fucking _bet_ I am," Carmen says. He was _hers_. She was going to kill him. He had the same intentions. They hit each other with magic, fists, and sharp blades. Carmen wasn't a very good match for him — something she would never admit out loud.

"Stop!" A voice said. Nesta Archeron stepped into their line of vision, the King and Carmen both bleeding from multiple wounds. "There's the thief," He says, mostly to himself. "Leave her alone," Nesta hisses. Nesta looked half like a queen — her dress blowing in the wind. Around her, people were dying and Nesta Archeron looked pristine. _No,_ Carmen thought. _She looks like a Goddess._

The King began following Nesta, leaving Carmen behind like a forgotten toy. To him, Nesta was vital. He'd return for her later. It seemed that Carmen had finally met her match — and she _couldn't_ have that. She wondered what would happen if her heart was plucked from her chest. Would she, like, grow a new one? Would it be stone? Would her magic defend herself, turning their hand to mush? Carmen didn't know. She wasn't planning on finding out.

Carmen Mikaelson _is_ invincible. It was something that wouldn't change, even if she wanted it too. Even if she lost every and everything, she would live until her world became no more. She'd be nineteen forever. She, quite frankly, was the definition of power. That was why she'd never gone by _Mikaelson_ , wasn't it? Carmen was strong — but that didn't mean it was a good thing. That terrified her. She knew she was strong... but what if that wasn't enough? What is power if she couldn't defend herself? _You get back up_ , something in her growled.

With that thought in mind, she lunged herself back into battle.

In the end, it had been Amren who saved them. They were losing — a few more hours and Hybern would reign victorious. Prythian hadn't had enough warriors. Not enough who could fight against war commanders thousands of years older than them.

She stopped and stared, her flying over them and burning those who tried to flee. Burnt flesh stung her nose, reminding her of the night she became immortal. Carmen and those around her _stopped_ and watched with bated breath as Amren soared, this fallen angel saving them. Soon, nothing remained of her but the burning boats and bones. Carmen's body ached, her magic nearly burnt out. Her hands twitched. Her torn flesh wasn't healing as quickly anymore.

The rush of battle numbed that for now.

Carmen sniffed the air, unable to find out where Lucien was. It made her panic. Was he dead? Did _she_ kill him by mistake? Her body had gone cold. She began shoving her way through people. She felt something _tug._

She followed it until she found Feyre curled over Rhysand, wailing and screaming. Something in her jerked. "No, no, no. Rhysand, _please_ ," She shouted, whirling on those that gathered. Carmen spotted the rest of them; Mor, Cassian, and Azriel. Cassian looked like he was _seconds_ away from dropping dead. Carmen would slip him some of her blood when she got the chance. If only to thank Nesta for not letting the King beat her ass any longer.

Mor pulled her off, Thesan taking her place and touching him. Feyre fought against her. The High Lords began appearing. "Bring him back!" None answered. "You did it for me. Now do it for him," Feyre pleaded.

"You were a human. It's not the same," Helion interjected, speaking calmly and slowly. "I don't care. Do it," Feyre ordered. Carmen took a step back when she felt the ting of magic in the air. There was a wild look in her eyes — the kind that Klaus had when Carmen saw him last. The look that stated the person would do _anything_ for them. Klaus would tear the world apart for Carmen and Hope — and Feyre would do the same. That was _dangerous._

Tarquin stepped forward, "For what he gave," Carmen watched as a few others did, Beron — _fucking Beron_ — refused. Rage boiled in her, thinking of Lucien. She would tear him apart. She would _enjoy_ it. "I do not mind making one more kill today," Mor stated. Carmen hoped she'd do it anyway. Feyre did the same, growling, "Tell me how," Thesan gently approached, whispering.

Tamlin, the lord of Spring, appeared. "Please," She said. " _Please. I will do anything_ ," She said. It wouldn't surprise Carmen if Feyre sold herself to him if it meant Tamlin brought Rhysand back. Tamlin took a breathe, "Be happy, Feyre,"

It did no good.

The High Lord remained limp and unmoving.

Rhysand was _dead._

Feyre's wails began anew _._


	14. XIV. Destroyer Of Worlds

Feyre stopped as if she suddenly remembered something. Carmen flinched when she heard her name being screamed. She couldn't help him. She didn't have a spellbook nor anything to help. He was already _dead_ — she couldn't make him a vampire. "Carmen!" Feyre Archeron screamed. Carmen repressed a sigh, stepping past a few High Fae. Kieran, Mor's brother, blinked at her. "Help him," Feyre ordered. "Feyre, I _can't_ ," Carmen says. If the High Lords couldn't, how could she?

"You—you _said_ —" Feyre cuts her off, squatting down as she's caught in a fit of sobs. The faeries watch, unsure of what to make of this _mortal._ Thesan steps forward, hand on Feyre's shoulder. "I do not believe she can help—" Feyre stands up, slapping his hand away, walking towards her. " _Please_ ," Feyre begs. Carmen clenches her jaw, meeting Mor's eyes. She relented — only because she imagined _Hope_ there. "Don't expect it to work," Carmen hisses. Why the fuck was she even doing this? At this point, it was beyond wanting to be remembered. It was the... goodness in her. It was her _mother_. It was the bit of Klaus that wasn't psychotic. It was the part of her she pretended didn't exist. Carmen kneeled, grabbing the front of his armor and tearing it down the center. Feyre hovered and Carmen shot a glare. "Please, for the love of _God_ , stand back. I can't do it if you're breathing down my neck,"

Rhysand deserved this, didn't he? Death. She'd heard the things he'd done. The pain he caused. But... that was no different from her father, was it? To her? She still thought he was a shitty ruler. Carmen tucked her hair behind her ear, grimacing at the stuff that clung to her fingers. Another corpse laid nearby, Carmen flicked her fingers to light it. The fae near it jumped back, cursing. In slow French, Carmen whispers, "Please, if anyone is listening to me..."

She slices her hand with a clawed index finger, blood pooling in her palm. She pressed her hand above his heart, her blood leaking down over his ribs. Her grandmother did this — so could she. Her grandmother defied nature. Carmen could do the same. Carmen brought her hope, despair, anger, resentment, and fear to the surface. Each feeling she liked to pretend wasn't there. Once, when Carmen was fifteen, Freya taught her a simple healing spell. Carmen changed a few words, combining it with another she knew. Something she read out of Esther's grimoires. It was for when her friends were hurt and she didn't want to risk them dying. Carmen whispered the spell.

A gust of wind blew, the flaming corpse growing brighter. "What the fuck?" Kallias whispers. A few others mutter a prayer. Carmen shot the remnants of her magic into his chest, his body jerking up. Carmen refused to breathe for a moment. Then another. And another. She didn't take her hand off his chest. _Fucking work_ , Carmen thought. Carmen was brought to Prythian for a reason — to perish. She didn't come to fucking fail at her only task. Carmen wouldn't accept that.

Carmen repeated the spell, digging her claws into his chest, drawing blood. It hadn't worked.

Carmen stands, facing Feyre, "It was a long shot—"

Rhysand _gasps,_ clutching his throat as he coughs _._ The kind of reaction that witches brought. It wasn't a delayed resurrection of the High Lords. Rhysand looks down at his chest after hugging Feyre for a few long moments. "Huh. I guess you did know what you were talking about," He tells her. Carmen clicked her tongue, "You are one ungrateful bastard, you know that?"

The High Lords eye her warily as if she were a snake poised to strike. They took in her human features. So utterly human it was embarrassing _she_ was the one that brought him back and not them. "What are you?" Beron spits. Carmen narrowed her eyes, ready to break every bone with her magic. Until—

" _Carmen_?" A voice that she only heard in her dreams asks. Carmen jerks, turning around to find short ginger pushing her way through the gathered faeries. "Hope? _Hope_?" Carmen says, freezing when she spots her. Hope's eyebrows furrow, taking her in, "You—you're immortal?" Hope wraps her arms around her. "You _died_?"

Carmen crushes Hope in a hug, wiping her tears. "Yeah. I did," Carmen laughs. Hope refused to let her go, "I've _missed_ you so much," Hope whispers. She doesn't care that Carmen is _covered_ in questionable liquids. They cry, laugh, and hug each other until they can't any longer.

Carmen leads Hope through the waves of people, eagerly telling her sister everything that happened. From attacking Azriel when she woke in the Night Court, her fake marriage to Lucien, her growing feelings of Lucien, to her death, the battle, and Rhysand's resurrection. "And then the King tried to kill me!" Carmen says, her voice oddly light for the words at hand. "I want you to meet him before we go," Carmen tells her.

She'd ask a final time. If he said he didn't wish to return with her, that would be it. Carmen _understood_. It didn't make the feeling any easier, though. She'd move on and forget him and this place. Carmen would live for many millennia and eventually, this place would become something she could hardly recall. "How angry is dad?" Carmen asks. Hope lets out a whistle, "Furious,"

Carmen winced, "He better not yell at me. I never asked to be brought here," She bounced on the balls of her feet as she thought of her cousins, aunts, uncles, and her parents. Carmen laughs again, "I'm going _home!_ Like, really!" Carmen grinned until her cheeks hurt.

"Oh! Lucien!" Carmen says. Lucien turns toward her. "Hope, Luce. Lucien, Hope," Hope juts out her hand, "I've heard about you," Both their faces flushed. Around them, faeries and humans mingle. She wondered how different this would be if she hadn't resurrected Rhysand. They offered her a place among their Court which she (politely) declined by muttering some words and turning in the other direction. Carmen was _not_ going to stay in his dystopian hellscape longer than she had to. Not when she could go _home_.

"I can say the same," Lucien replies. He hardly takes his eyes off Carmen. The pair was unlikely. He, the seventh son of a High Lord and a lady of the Autumn Court. She, an abomination of sorts. They found each other, didn't they? He found himself hardly thinking of Elain like _that_ in recent weeks.

"So," Carmen says once Hope excused herself to talk to someone. Who? Carmen didn't fucking know. Her sister always enjoyed making new friends. "I'm returning home tonight," She says. She was sure she'd get a lectured until her ears bled and she _nearly_ welcomed it. "You are," Lucien states. Carmen smiles slightly, raising an eyebrow, "Do you want to come?"

Lucien kisses her softly and she felt her heart sink to her stomach. This was their goodbye, wasn't it? He wants to stay in Prythian and forget all about her. Instead, Lucien whispers, "Of course,"

Carmen Mikaelson might be a complete _jackass_ who is borderline feral most days. She's beyond stubborn and has a hard time admitting her faults. Carmen Mikaelson is many things; but, overall, she's _happy_.

Carmen smiles at him, kissing his cheek. "For now?" Carmen holds up her pinky. "For now," Lucien confirms. God knows where they'd be ten years — ten days from now. Maybe they'd wake to discover they hated each other with every fiber of their body. Maybe they _wouldn't_ be compatible in the end. For now, though, none of that mattered.

For now, they'd take it one day at a time. 


	15. XV. Let The World Melt Away

"Okay but you _cannot,_ under _any_ circumstances show fear — Klaus can smell it," Lilah whispers, giving Lucien a pointed look. He shifts nervously, looking to Carmen, who had her feet on the table. "Like, Klaus eats hearts for fun but that shouldn't bother you," She finished, leaning into Hope. Hope scoffs, "That's _dramatic_ ," Lilah and Hope went into a short conversation, utterly focused on one another. Lucien angled his body in his chair, "If this was supposed to fill me with confidence, I'd suggest you get new people," Carmen laughs softly, the sun gleaming around her face. She looked nearly angelic. 

"Lilah and Hope are assholes," She shrugged, "But I already told you that," It was _odd_ to Lucien how often they bickered yet how fond they were of each other. Then again, he'd never liked his siblings and they didn't hold him very fondly, either. Carmen grins at him, shooting up and bouncing on the balls of her feet, "The moment you get uncomfortable, we can go. I will warn you, Klaus will threaten you but he threatens everyone. Most of the time, it's how he shows he likes you," 

"That's reassuring," Lucien muttered. Behind them, Hope grabs a pillow, hitting Lilah with it. The other girl wheezes loudly. For now, Carmen and Lucien were at their apartment, before meeting her family and then going _wherever the hell we want_. As if she could read his mind, Carmen suddenly asks, "How's Lorna?" From the time he spent with them, he quickly gathered that Lilah was a witch — the only in her family. Apparently, the magic reappeared back in her after a few hundred years. From what he _also_ gathered was that Lorna was—is with a faerie prince? Lucien has _no idea_ what is up with that but _okay_. His name was _also_ Lucien? 

"Ooh, I think Lorna is finally marrying him? I don't know, to be honest. My mom is pressuring her because she's 'getting old' but I don't know," Lilah smiles. Lucien figured that if Lilah is capable of surviving Klaus, so can he. How _bad_ could meeting the Mikaelson clan be? Worse than Hybern? Sitting through painfully awkward dinners with the Inner Circle? Being an emissary and forced to deal with his family? Like, sure, Lucien could very well end up missing his head in the end but, for Carmen, he thinks it could be worth it. 

So, Hope had jumped into Malivore, erasing her from everyone's memories, and then fled to another state where she met Lilah, who had recently learned she was a witch and rejected that part of herself. Lucien had yetto learn the entire story because Carmen hadn't wanted him to get overwhelmed by the two upon meeting. 

Carmen lights up when she gets a text, stating, "So, are you ready to meet my parents?" 

Her parents included Ophelia Jacobs, Niklaus Mikaelson, and Hayley Marshall. Each of whom looked ready to tear his head from his shoulders. Carmen _knew_ they wouldn't. No, she made it clear that she would avoid them for the next century if they did something like that. However, she'd been exiled from the room, standing in the hall. "Where do you think they are? The 'I'm going to eat your heart'? Or the 'I will kill everyone you've met'?" Nicola asks, her long legs hanging from the windowsill. Carmen snorts, glancing at her, "I think we're at the 'I will make you my bitch' part, actually. Why didn't Lilah get one of these?" Carmen asks suddenly. 

"Do you want to be the one to make Lilah Wells cry? Besides, no one wanted Hope to go batshit," Nic replies, taking a long drink of her soda. She turns somber, "Really, I'm glad you're back, though. I was worried," Carmen lets out a small chuckle, "Did I hear Nicola Esther Mikaelson say she was _scared_ for me? Admitting her _feelings_?" Nic leans forward to flick her forehead, "Okay, jackass, we get it. You're a professional moment ruiner," 

Carmen doesn't bother feigning an apology. Rather, she says, "Prythian wasn't that bad, I guess. Like, the battle was truly tragic — the King beat my ass but Nesta, the one I think is a witch or something similar, saved me," Nic leans back again, "The Mikaelson's and their witches," She runs a finger over her braids, thinking out loud, "I wonder why Jeanette sent you there. Klaus killed her before we could get an answer — another reason it took us to long. It was weird, though. It was like each portal we made had been _blocked_ and then it opened. That's when Hope came through," 

_Right after I resurrected Rhysand_. "I wonder if Jeanette meant to send me there. It doesn't make sense that she'd send me to a place in Prythian I'd be most likely to survive. If anything, why didn't she deliver me to Hybern with a bow wrapped around me?" Carmen glances back towards her... partner? Friend? She hadn't known what they were. They were actively fucking, yeah, but she figured they'd have to have a discussion sooner or later. Lucien nodded before saying something himself. Hayley and Ophelia shared a glance, both attempting to hide their smiles. the latter's diamond ring flickering in the night. Carmen hadn't cared enough to listen in. Three nights after Carmen returned, Ophelia proposed to Hayley. If Carmen had paid attention throughout the years, she wouldn't have been surprised. 

"What are you implying? That some other force sent you there?" Nic questioned, her eyebrows furrowing. Carmen looked back at her cousin, "I don't know. I don't think it matters, either. I think it all happened for a reason," Nic rolled her eyes, "How sentimental of you," 

"And you say I ruin moments," Carmen scoffed. "I swear none of us were raised with basic manners," Her father sent her a sharp glance which she returned with a small shrug. Carmen looks up at the quarter moon, thinking about everything that happened in the last few months. She _did_ end up becoming a legend. The girl who'd fallen between worlds and fighting against the King and resurrecting the High Lord when his kind wasn't powerful enough to do it. The _odd_ thing was that she couldn't bring herself to care. Being left in history books had seemed so minor compared to everything else she wanted to do. 

(She will admit that she's no longer a chocolate chip pancake — she's a goddamn breakfast buffet) 

"What do you plan on doing now?" Nic asks. Carmen ponders it for a moment, her eyes trained on Lucien, "I have all the time in the world. I'll figure it out," 


End file.
